


Walking Out of Stride

by indecentpause



Category: Original Work
Genre: Coming Out, Coming of Age, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jewish Character, Latino Character, M/M, Pansexual Character, Transphobia, Unsafe Binding Practices, dumpster diving, happy for now, hfn, mild violence, more tags to be added as needed, transgender character, young adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecentpause/pseuds/indecentpause
Summary: Caleb is sixteen, trans, and stuck in a tiny town in the Southwest. With an abusive family and a dwindling support system, Caleb’s only focus is getting the hell out.Then Elijah comes along, and things get complicated. He and Caleb grow close quickly, as teenagers will… but Elijah is graduating and leaving for the Air Force in less than four months, and Caleb doesn’t know if he can handle being left behind.





	1. Chapter 1

Jackalope Hills, Arizona, was a tiny hole of a town a few miles south of the middle of nowhere and a couple blocks east of who the hell cares. Most of the time nobody even knew the name of the place. It simply got swallowed up by the Phoenix-Metro monolith.

Constantly quiet and sleepy, whether from the heat of the summer or the darkness of the winter, it was the kind of town people did everything they could to escape from. It was the kind of town that only held onto those with family obligations or too little money or few opportunities to start over elsewhere.

It was the kind of town that was much, much too small for someone like Caleb, with dreams of big cities and opportunities and freedom, but at sixteen years old, he was just as stuck as everybody else.

 

Winter vacation was over. The music had gone back to the top 40s and the Christmas lights and decorations had come down. The once carefully decorated store displays were torn down and scattered across clearance aisles. The fun part of winter was over. Now came the short days and too-cold nights and constant grey, but never with snow, never with rain. In February, the blue skies and warm afternoons would come back. But they’d have to make it through January, first.

 

The only difference between being a sophomore and a junior was having the option to take semester-length classes rather than only year-round ones. While Modern American History was generally reserved for seniors, it wasn’t a hard rule, merely a suggestion, and Caleb’s grades -- while not perfect -- were good enough to convince the principal to allow it.

It was his first class of the day, and he was early, as always. Any excuse to get away from his house and his family, even for a few minutes. The teacher wasn’t even there yet. Caleb sat outside the door, knees tucked up to his chest, trying to obscure his hoodie enough that nobody would be able to see him tug his binder down a little bit more. Whether each student loved him or hated him, it was no secret at the school that he was transgender, but that didn’t mean he wanted to draw any attention to it. If someone was going to pay attention to him, he wanted it to be for the right reasons -- he was nice, he was interesting, he had notes they needed to copy, whatever -- and not because of his gender.

He finished fixing his binder, spread his legs back out, and tugged his hoodie back down over his hips, pulling his mp3 player and headphones out of his backpack. As he hooked his left one in, a big, heavy, boot-covered foot stepped down near his feet and he glanced up. It was Elijah Abrams, his nose stuck in a book like always, stepping over Caleb’s outstretched feet.

Caleb tucked his feet in so he wouldn’t risk tripping him, or anyone else. He glanced up, trying to be casual, although with the intent with which Elijah was reading, Caleb probably could have broken out into a song and dance number and the older boy wouldn’t have noticed.

Elijah was tall, even for a senior. He was built solid and sturdy, like a man rather than a teenager. He looked more like he belonged on a football field than in a library surrounded by fantasy novels, which was what Caleb always saw him reading.

And _oh,_ he was gorgeous. The strong nose and jaw of his profile, his always alert hazel eyes, the way his barely wavy brown hair stuck out a little at the ends. The arms that always seemed to be almost too big for his shirts didn’t hurt, either.

Caleb quickly hooked the other earphone in and looked down at his mp3 player. With his tiny hands and soft limbs and round face, his curved waist that the binder could only flatten so much -- no guy would be interested in him, and the only girls that would be would be ones who went for butch girls, which he wasn’t. He’d dated a few, in the past, but they’d always been a spectacular failure when eventually it came down to the point that _no, I’m not a butch lesbian, I’m a pansexual trans guy_. It blew up like a hoard of fireworks left unattended with a pyromaniac. Caleb stopped trying to keep track of the rumors, but more than a good amount were probably started by disgruntled ex-girlfriends.

He looked up again at the muffled, “Morning, boys,” over his music. Mr. Bingham was unlocking the door, the clinking of his keys boisterously loud in the nearly empty hall. Caleb pulled his earphones out and wrapped them up.

“Hey, Mr. B.,” Caleb said.

“Caleb.”

Everyone knew Mr. Bingham, even if only through stories and rumor, but the only thing that Caleb cared about was that he never made an issue of his name. As a minor, he couldn’t legally change it, yet, and at the start of each new class with a new teacher, Caleb tracked down e-mail addresses and phone numbers and speak to each one in private about it. Some were accepting, like Mr. Bingham. Some refused but compromised by calling him by his last name. Others made a point to use his birth name as much as they could, as if they were trying to teach him a lesson. _You think you can be different? Unacceptable!_

“Elijah.” Mr. Bingham nodded toward the bigger teenager as he opened the door.

“Sir.”

It was always ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ with Elijah. It was all he called anyone, except other students.

Caleb uncrossed his legs and started to push himself up. When he chanced a glance in Elijah’s direction, the older boy had pulled his attention away from his book long enough for his eyes to land on Caleb.

“You need a hand?”

Caleb chuckled and offered a small, lopsided smile.

Elijah smiled back, small and almost gentle, and held out his hand.

His sand-gold skin was a sharp contrast against Caleb’s dark brown, but most importantly, Elijah’s hand was warm and callused and wonderful, and for a brief moment of insanity, Caleb wondered what it would be like if he could hold that hand any time he wanted.

“Thanks.” Caleb’s already high voice hitched and squeaked and Elijah chuckled. Caleb coughed awkwardly into his hand and cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he repeated, a little lower, but still barely on the edge of androgynous.

“No problem,” Elijah said. He pushed the door open and held it behind him for Caleb to follow.                                                                                               

Caleb slipped into the back corner seat, his favorite place -- out of the way and a little bit quieter, even if it did mean he had to put on his glasses to better see the white board. He slid the thick black frames onto his nose and pushed his dark, curly hair out of his face, where it fell right back again. It was barely at the edge of reaching his chin. He’d need to cut it, soon.

He looked up at the scrape of the desk feet against the floor to see Elijah readjusting his seat with one hand, book still open in the other. He slid into his seat with a gracefulness uncommon for his size, and he stuck out his feet and crossed his ankles as he slumped forward onto the desk. It was almost too small for him, curled up on himself, knees bent in at awkward angles. But it didn’t seem to bother him. He turned the page.

Caleb looked back to the board and pulled out his notebook and a pen. This class didn’t have a textbook and was apparently taught entirely through handouts and multimedia. Mr. Bingham was fiddling with the stereo tucked on the shelf behind his desk, and after a small crackle, _My Generation_ by The Who began to play.

Caleb grinned.

More students filed in, slowly filling up all but two of the desks. Full classroom. There were a few faces Caleb recognized and many he didn’t. The final bell rang, and the first class of the semester began.

 

“Now, I want all of you to look to your left and to your right.” Caleb looked back up from his notebook as he slid it into his backpack. The bell had already rung. Was he keeping them? No! His next class was with Mrs. Reed, and she _hated_ him. He couldn’t be late.

But he did as Mr. Bingham asked. To his left, a wall. To his right, Elijah Abrams. Elijah glanced at him and nodded, then looked back to the front of the class.

“That person, or those people, are going to be your buddies for the semester. Swap phone numbers with them in the case of an absence or sickness so you can keep up with the work. Text them if you have questions on an assignment and school is already out. Work with each other to help each other succeed! A lot of college professors won’t give you make up work and make it your responsibility to find out from each other, so let’s start practicing now.” The class started shifting and moving, and he raised his voice. “Read that packet I gave you for tomorrow!”

Caleb slid his phone out of his pocket and looked at it hesitantly. He looked over at Elijah, who was talking to the girl on his other side. Caleb couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she was bright pink. Elijah stood and she followed, taking a step closer. She opened her mouth, but Elijah had already turned back to Caleb.

“Hey,” he said. “So, phone number?”

“If you want to?” Caleb asked. “I mean, that would be helpful.”

Elijah half smiled and slid his phone open. “It’s Caleb, right?”

Caleb nodded.

“Shoot.”

Caleb rattled off his phone number. Elijah’s thumbs flew across his phone, then he slid it closed again and slipped it in his pocket.

“Sent you a text,” he said.

Caleb’s phone vibrated. He unlocked the screen.

_Elijah Abrams_

Caleb locked it and slid his phone into his pocket to deal with later.

“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” Caleb asked.

Elijah chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. Something about such an awkward movement in such a sure-seeming body was adorable.

“Guess not.” He gently nudged Caleb’s shoulder with a loosely curled fist. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hiked his bag over his shoulder and was out the door before Caleb could finish processing the touch and whether or not it meant anything, and if so, what.


	2. Chapter 2

The weather that morning was clear, if a little grey, and it was just warm enough to eat outside near the planters. Caleb sat on the concrete with one arm lifted over his head as Kirelle drew on and colored it with temporary marker tattoos. Her fingers moved smooth and sure. She was a small and thin and pretty Black girl, made of angles and flat lines where other girls had curves. Her black hair was pulled back in a kinky, puffy ponytail -- she’d given her perm-damaged hair the big chop last year and was letting it grow out natural. Her dark brown eyes were squinted in focus and thought as she turned Caleb’s arm this way and that. Caleb let her handle him as he ate his sandwich with his other hand.

“S’how’s the first day back going?” she asked around the marker cap in her mouth.

“Try that again in a language I understand?” Caleb teased. Kirelle spit out the cap on his head, where it immediately tangled itself up in his curls.

“The first day back, you dork. How’s it going? You guys ready for school again?”

“I will never be ready for school,” Chailyn groaned. Her frayed jeans were a stark contrast with the immaculately kept pink hijab and loose peasant shirt. She dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes. Her long eyelashes brushed her warm brown cheek. “Kirelle, take me home.” It was a playful, but whiny, demand.

Kirelle laughed and shook her head. Caleb looked up at her and grinned.

“You’re done,” Kirelle said. She dropped his arm.

Caleb eyed Kirelle’s marker work, turning his arm this way and that, admiring the color and smooth lines.

“When I finally have the money to get my sleeves for real, will you design them for me?”

“Will you pay me?” It was only a half-joke. Chailyn laughed and took a bite of her pizza.

“Don’t laugh,” Kirelle said. “Art is serious business.”

Caleb smirked and glanced over at Chailyn, then back up at Kirelle. “Of course. Whatever the going rate for tattoo design is at the time. It won’t be for years, though. I want to have started hormones and been on them for a while first so my body can figure out what shape it wants to be.”

“I don’t know that it will change that drastically, that that’s something to worry about?” Kirelle said.

Caleb shrugged. “If I’m finally able to gain some bulk when I work out I just don’t want anything to get stretched, that’s all.”

“I admire you, Caleb,” Chailyn said. “I wish I had the drive to work out.”

“You skateboard everywhere all the time,” Caleb said.

“Yeah, well, that’s different.”

“Not really.”

Chailyn shrugged. “I’m just saying, if I tried really hard I might be able to be skinny someday. But I just don’t care. Oops!”

Caleb laughed.

“You’re fine like this,” Kirelle said. “You’re cute chubby. You’d look weird if you were thin. You’d look emaciated.”

Caleb chuckled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He shuffled through his text messages until he found Elijah’s and added him to his contacts. He hesitated, staring at the text from earlier, the blank box waiting for him to start typing.

 _I could just say ‘hi’_ , he thought. _Tell him he’s in my phone book, now. Is that weird?_

Caleb and Elijah didn’t run in the same circles, and while the school had never had a caste system like TV schools always did, there were still clear lines dicing up who did what and where and with whom. Elijah was in JROTC and hung out with all the kids in the culinary classes -- at least, that’s what Caleb had overheard -- and he always had his nose in a fantasy novel. That wasn’t even a circle. That was a Venn Diagram. Caleb was mostly in the arts with his friends -- art classes, Art Club, fundraisers for putting on the annual student art exhibit -- which could _sort_ of mesh with culinary, if he tilted his head and squinted a little bit. And that didn’t even touch his… extracurricular activities. Only Kirelle and Chailyn knew about that, because even though the lines separating the classes were blurry, people like him and his friends were firmly at the bottom. None of them were either popular or unpopular, but if their after school projects made their way out to the rest of the school?

It would be social suicide before senior year even began.

 

Caleb skipped the neighborhood school bus and opted for the city bus, which would take him along the main streets and down to the Community Center where he and Kirelle volunteered. Kirelle taught computer classes and Caleb was helping with a new mural they were painting on the east wall inside the main meeting room. There was nothing on the agenda today, but anything was better than going home. He only saw his family at dinner anymore, but it was better not to risk a run-in unless absolutely necessary.

He waited, quiet and alone, feet kicking where he sat underneath the tiny sun-shelter. His earphones were in again, this time playing random songs rather than an album. One of his favorite songs came on, and he bounced a little in his seat, leaning his head against the thick plexiglass siding of the shelter.

The seat shifted and he half-turned to see who had joined him. It turned into a double-take. He pulled one earphone out.

“Elijah?”

Elijah looked up from his book. His eyes darted from Caleb’s bare ear down to the white earbud in his loosely curled hand.

“Hey,” he offered. A heavy pause. “Uh. I saw that you were listening to music and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“No, no,” Caleb said. He pulled his other earbud out. “Am I…” he gestured toward the book. Elijah dog-eared the page and slipped it in his backpack.

“No,” he said. “I’ve read this one six or seven times, anyway.”

Yet another pause, long and awkward. Caleb swallowed. Elijah looked away.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you on this route before?” Caleb asked. It was stupid, but he wanted to say _something_. Elijah was quiet and didn’t speak much but when he did, his voice was rich and smooth and sweet, like melted chocolate.

“Yeah,” Elijah said. He finally looked up. “I usually take the 85 but I just missed it. It only comes every thirty minutes. This one hits another bus I can transfer to, and it’ll be faster than waiting.”

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one place.” Caleb didn’t mean to say it out loud, but when Elijah laughed, he was glad he did.

“Well,” he said, “to be fair, we only met this morning.”

“Yeah, but we’ve had classes together.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “We have?”

Of course Elijah wouldn’t have remembered him from French 3-4. Why would anyone? Caleb was small and waifish and that was the year his acne totally overtook his face. And he sucked at French so he’d never spoken much.

“We… we were in French class together. Last year.”

“Really?” Elijah’s question was soft. His face flushed a little and he turned away. “Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you. I feel kind of like a dick, now.”

“Don’t,” Caleb laughed. “I wasn’t exactly memorable in that class. I didn’t say much unless I had to.”

“Well… let me try this again, then,” Elijah said. He held out his hand. “I’m Elijah. Nice to officially meet you, for what’s now the third time.”

Caleb shook his hand and grinned.

“So where are you headed?” he asked.

“Just on my way home,” Elijah said. “I live on the edge of the district. My parents really wanted me in this school.”

“Yeah? Me, too,” Caleb said. “They wanted me and my brother in a place we might actually be able to succeed, so they looked up the lines and found the cheapest place they could at the edge of the area. Where do you live?”

“On the east side of the town.”

“I’m south,” Caleb said.

They fell quiet again.

The bus came not long after. Elijah boarded and Caleb followed a few steps behind. After he paid his fare, he headed to the back of the bus, slowing down as he arrived at the empty seat beside Elijah. Should he sit down? They weren’t _friends_ , just classmates who had talked a little, and bus etiquette dictated that he give Elijah the space of the extra seat. So he sat in the seat across, offered him one last smile and wave, and put his earphones back in. But Elijah was already too deep back in his book to see. Which meant he was too deep back into his book to see the bright flush at Caleb’s ears, too.

 

It was just past 6:45 when Caleb walked through the front door of his family’s apartment. Dinner was always eaten at 7:00. He ducked down as he passed the kitchen so he wouldn’t alert his parents to his presence and moved past his brother’s room as quietly as he could. Thank god for that ugly shag carpeting. He knew he’d have to face them in less than fifteen minutes, but if he could just get a few moments of peace before that, he’d be so much better equipped to handle it.

He slid inside his bedroom, barely opening the door.

Inside, he pulled off his t-shirt, then his binder, then breathed in deeply a few times and stretched out his ribcage. His chest was pretty small as it was simply because his body was so slight and thin, but he still needed a little help, and Kirelle, glorious, wonderful Kirelle, had agreed to be his mailing address for things like binders and packers so his family couldn’t get to them. He pulled on a loose, clean t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants and sat down at his desk, combing through his homework one last time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything at the community center.

But his thoughts kept wandering, from what he and his friends were planning this Friday night to what he would bring with him for lunch at school tomorrow to speculating about whether he should get a backup binder to keep in Chailyn’s car, just in case, but eventually they always settled on one thing: Elijah. He’d always seemed so untouchable until now, too high up on the social ladder to even bother poking at Caleb with a stick, but it was clear he hadn’t thought of Caleb as anything other than an equal. He was quiet and soft-spoken and almost shy, despite his height and build, and the contrast made Caleb want to grab a stepstool so he could pinch Elijah’s cheeks and plant a kiss right on his mouth.

 _Knock it off, Caleb,_ he told himself. _He’d have to like guys for that to even be a possibility_. And even if he did, in a place like this? He’d have to be either brave or stupid to be willing to admit it. Caleb was out, but he was wedged firmly in the ‘stupid’ camp, and being transgender was a visible thing he couldn’t hide. And the pansexual thing hadn’t really phased anyone once the trans issue had finally come to light.

He was broken out of his thoughts by his mother’s shrill voice calling for him and his brother. “Arianna! Manny! Dinner!”

Caleb cringed. He’d been Caleb since he was eight years old. It was how he introduced himself, it was what he answered to, it was who he _was_. And every time someone used his deadname instead, it was like a dagger to his back. Especially when it was someone who should know better. Especially when it was someone who should care.

But his family had made it clear they didn’t care a long time ago.

He sighed and ruffled his hair, then went out to the little round table in the tiny nook beside the kitchen.

Caleb didn’t speak during the meal. He didn’t correct his parents when they called him the wrong name, when they called him ‘young lady’. He flinched when his mother tugged sharply at his hair and said, “It’s finally growing out to a respectable length, now,” but he didn’t say that he was planning on getting it cut next weekend. His father asked him if he’d met any boys in his new classes and before he could think about whether to answer, Manny interrupted with, “What do you think? She’s a huge dyke.”

“I think she just needs to find the right boy,” his mother said. “She just needs to find the right boy. That’ll straighten everything out.”

Caleb cast his eyes down at his food, his rice and chorizo and black beans scented with cumin. When he swallowed, his throat closed for a moment, and the shame of his family burned the back of his eyes. But what else could he do?

It wasn’t safe for him to fight back. He’d learned that long ago.

His seventeenth birthday was in less than five months, and once he made it there, he could get emancipated, he could get a job, he could find his own space or somewhere with a friend, and everything would be okay. He just had to make sure he could hold out until then.

 

The week passed uneventfully. Caleb never got past general greetings and formalities with Elijah before he had to shut his mouth for class and was never fast enough to catch him on his way out the door afterward. Kirelle continued to draw marker tattoos on his arms every few days as the old ones faded.

“I’m going to try to get a job,” he said. It was Friday afternoon, just as lunch was wrapping up. “Do you guys know anyone hiring?”

“I think the movie theatre is,” Chailyn offered. “But you’d probably have to work all weekend.”

“That’s okay.”

Kirelle patted his arm and he dropped it, complete with a new marker tattoo. He admired her work for a few moments before pulling his hoodie sleeve back down again. “Do you think maybe we can switch our dives to Thursday night, if I end up there?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chailyn said. She was the driver, so she made the schedule. “You’re still with us tonight, though, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Caleb said. “I haven’t even put in any applications yet.”

“Good,” Chailyn grinned. “A new toy store opened up in my area and they just finished a huge sale, so you know what that means.”

Caleb grinned back. He certainly did.

 

Caleb’s parents would never allow him to leave the house if they knew what he got up to Friday nights, so he’d made up a story about a study group that met every week to go over math, because they knew he struggled with it and needed all the help he could get. Kirelle and Chailyn were both in on it, and everyone knew what to say if his parents called. He didn’t know if they had his friends’ numbers, but he wouldn’t be surprised. They’d probably gone through his phone multiple times without his knowledge.

He sat, holed up in his room, in an old pair of ratty black jeans and a black hoodie. A black bandanna was tied loosely around his neck, a pair of black gloves in his pocket. A black beanie in his left hand, his cell phone in his right. The familiar text tone rang.

Caleb pulled his hat on and as he jogged through the living room and grabbed his keys, he called out quickly, “Out to study group be back later!”

He was gone before anyone had the chance to stop him.

At seventeen years, Chailyn’s shitty white Toyota was as old as she was, but it got them to where they needed to go. He slid into the backseat and Kirelle gently jostled his side when he bumped into her.

“Hey, Kirelle,” he grinned. She chuckled and nudged his side with her elbow. She was also dressed all in black, with her hair pulled back tight and hood up around her face. Chailyn was similarly dressed, but with no hat. Instead, a black hijab replaced her normal pink one. She tossed him a flashlight and said, “You ready?”

“Hell yes,” Caleb laughed. “Let’s go!”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m working lookout tonight, because let’s just be straight here, I might be half-Iraqi but I can pass as white and you can’t. I can hide my hijab under my hoodie, they won’t know the difference. But you’re Black and Latino, you guys, and we don’t want anyone hurt. It’s still early enough that curfew won’t have gone into effect yet, so I can just say I’m waiting for my boyfriend or some bullshit if someone comes by. I know we’ve never had trouble with cops before, but…” She glanced up at Caleb and Kirelle’s reflections in the rearview mirror. “But I worry, okay, because I love your stupid faces.”

“Yeah, I got you,” Caleb said.

Chailyn went over it every trip, even though they knew the routine. They went out like clockwork. At first it was just food to help out the Phoenix Food Not Bombs chapter, but when they started finding things like potted plants and cooking equipment, they spread out their reach to toy and clothing and department stores. They’d slowly combed the city, oftentimes stuck with dumpsters with heavy locks or nothing but shredded paperwork, but eventually they’d figured out a schedule and a route that led to more successes than failures.

The car sped up as Chailyn reached the main road.

“Okay guys,” she said. “Buckle it if you haven’t yet. Side streets are one thing, but not on main roads. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Caleb caught a soft, warm smile in her reflection in the mirror, fond, gentle, loving. Elijah had smiled at him _almost_ like that, that first day when he’d helped him up off the floor. Caleb’s ears went bright red at the thought and he gently patted his face to bring himself back into the car. He needed to focus right now. He couldn’t distract himself with thoughts of Elijah’s smile, or his hand that he’d felt just that once, or his voice, or his… _dammit_.

“What’s up?”

Caleb glanced over at Kirelle, but her smirk said everything for her. It was small and knowing and just one eyebrow was quirked over her dark eyes.

“Nothing,” Caleb squeaked.

“Caleb Ortega, _who_ are you thinking about right now?”

“Nobody!”

Chailyn glanced up in the rearview mirror.

“What are we talking about?” she asked.

“I think Caleb has a --”

“No he doesn’t.”

“A _crush_ on someone,” she finished, nonplussed.

“Oh man, dirt!” Chailyn said lowly, conspiring. “Who? Who?”

“No!” Caleb groaned, sinking down into the seat. Now his whole face was burning, all the way down to the back of his neck. He pulled his beanie down over his eyes. Kirelle gently pulled it up and he screwed his eyes closed.

“We can play twenty questions,” she teased. “Guy or girl?”

“Kirelle!”

“Come on! I told you all about the guy in my algebra class, you can tell me about this.”

Chailyn hit a speed bump. Caleb hiccupped so hard his shoulders jerked.

“Caleb, please?”

He opened one eye to see her pouting, pleading face and he sighed. Who would they tell, anyway?

“You know Elijah Abrams?”

“Of _course_ I know of Elijah Abrams.” Her eyes widened and she grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got some competition, you know that, right? Like, half the student body is into him.”

“To have competition you have to be in the running,” Caleb muttered.

“It’s a bad idea,” Chailyn said. Caleb and Kirelle looked up. Her face was soft, but serious. “From what I hear, he’s planning on joining the military when he graduates. That means he’s leaving for sure. And he’s a senior, so it won’t be long from now.”

“See, so it doesn’t matter,” Caleb said, a little too quickly. “So drop it.”

But his throat tightened a little and his heart sped up, anyway. Why? Elijah was hot, yeah, and nice, but he barely _knew_ the guy. He couldn’t lose something he’d never had in the first place.

Soon, they pulled into the first of the parking lots: the toy store just outside the mall. They never had any luck at the mall itself because too many places used the same dumpsters. Chailyn pulled the car around the back and put it in idle as she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to look at Caleb and Kirelle. Chailyn handed her a garbage bag.

“Trunk is popped,” she said. “So we can just grab and drive.”

“Okay!” Kirelle said. “Grab your flashlight and let’s go!”

Caleb grinned and did as she said, pulling on his gloves and his bandana over his nose, then shoving the flashlight in his newly empty pocket. He and Kirelle jumped out of the car and darted over to the dumpsters.

“I’ll call you if we need to go,” Chailyn stage whispered. “If I don’t hear from you in thirty seconds, I’ll honk. Then you’d better get back.”

Caleb and Kirelle saluted. Chailyn rolled her eyes and laughed, and they turned around and got to work.

They started at the dumpster on the left, which had a stack of boxes teetering against it. Caleb used one as a stepstool and got just a glance of a loosely opened bag with a board game peeking out before it collapsed under his weight. Promising.

He took a step back and used the force of the extra distance to launch himself up, pulling himself up and swinging his leg over. Something squished when he landed -- thank goodness for non-skid boots -- and he pulled out his flashlight and turned it on just as Kirelle landed to his left.

With a thumb and finger he carefully nudged the bag further open to make sure there was nothing disgusting inside, no leftover lunches or bathroom garbage. It seemed clean enough, so he pulled a pocketknife from his jeans and cut a slit down the middle. A pile of toys spilled out, some stuffed animals with holes in them, board games with dented boxes, dolls with ripped packaging. Mostly totally serviceable with a little bit of extra care.

“Hand me the bag, Kirelle?”

She pushed the bag into Caleb’s hand and stood back up again, looking out over the edge of the dumpster toward the entrance of the alleyway.

They packed up as many toys as quickly and quietly as they could. A few were beyond repair and had to be left behind, but most of them were still useable.

Caleb discarded a too torn-up teddy bear and then shoved a dinosaur toy in a broken package into the bag.

“That’s the last of it,” he said. Kirelle jumped out as he tied off the garbage bag and tossed it over the edge of the dumpster. He hopped out and threw it in the trunk of Chailyn’s car to take to the shelter in the morning.

The two clothing stores were a bust, but they’d always been pretty hit and miss. They had better luck at the Food City and Holsum Bakery dumpsters, finding more than enough food for the Phoenix Food Not Bombs chapter with leftovers enough to take down to the food pantry. Nobody had to know where it came from. It was all still perfectly good.

 

The rest of the weekend was homework and studying and texting his friends, and even though he didn’t like most of his classes, Caleb looked forward to it being over. He spent most of his study time at the library down the street, claiming the quiet helped him concentrate, even though he listened to his mp3 player there, anyway. He managed to wheedle Kirelle into inviting him over for dinner Sunday night so he could spend even less time with his own family. Her parents drove him home at eight, and even though his parents were in the living room watching TV, they didn’t acknowledge him when he walked in. He darted to his room and shut the door, flipping the lock so nobody could barge in.

He did one more once over of his homework. Did he have any homework to do for his history class other than the reading? He checked his notes and didn’t see an assignment, but he hadn’t written down that there _wasn’t_ one, either. He glanced over at his phone at the corner of his desk.

The only number he had for that class was Elijah’s. That was why they’d swapped numbers, right? So they could ask each other for help if they needed it. It was just a question about an assignment. It wasn’t like he was asking Elijah out for dinner!

_Hey, sorry to bother you. Did we have an assignment over the weekend or just the reading?_

Elijah got back to him almost instantly.

_We’re supposed to write a paragraph about it. A reaction to what we read, how we feel about it, etc. Bring it in for discussion tomorrow._

_Thanks._

Caleb almost added something stupid, like, _Hey, maybe we could get together next weekend to study,_ but there was nothing _to_ study yet. Their first test hadn’t yet been assigned and there were no projects on the horizon. So he just sent the one word reply.

A few minutes later, he got another text back.

_Hey, this is a little embarrassing, but none of my friends can help me with this. Have you taken chemistry? Were you any good at it?_

Caleb frowned. Was Elijah asking him for tutoring?

_I got a B-. I did okay._

_Do you think we could get together after class sometime this week and go over some things? I’m really lost and can’t afford to let my grades slip._

Caleb flushed bright and hot and a wide grin spread across his face. They’d probably just be in the library, but they’d be together, alone, and maybe…

 _Maybe nothing,_ he told himself. Elijah had said himself, nobody else could help him. He was probably just desperate. He wouldn’t want anything else with a nobody weirdo like Caleb.

Caleb texted back, _Sure. When?_

_Tuesday or Thursday?_

_Either. Or both._

_Let’s do both. I need the extra work._

_Okay. My locker’s in the 600 hall. Number 622. Meet me there Tuesday afternoon? We can always talk about it more tomorrow._

Elijah’s response was a single word.

 _Okay_.


	3. Chapter 3

Caleb was up and out the door at 6:30, even though the library didn’t open until 7:30, even though class didn’t start until 8:00. He knew, logically, that Elijah wouldn’t be there any earlier than usual -- he usually arrived about the same time as Mr. Bingham -- but, dammit, he was _excited_. It was just study sessions and schoolwork, but he’d finally get a chance to talk to Elijah in more than just brief ‘Morning’s and ‘See you later’s. What would he say? He didn’t know. But he’d find something. If there was anything he was good at, it was not knowing how to shut up.

As soon as it opened, he popped into the library and out of the cold, where he typed up and printed his assignment for history. It was quick and easy. They were discussing the Beat Movement and how it led into the counterculture of the ‘60s, and while Caleb didn’t know much about poetry, he knew about alternative subcultures and how they linked together, and that was more than enough.

He slipped the paper into his folder as he left the library and headed to the 200 hall where his history class was held. Elijah was already there, leaning back heavily against the wall, his face in a book, a different one this time. Caleb checked the time on his phone. 6:45. That gave them at least a little time to talk. If he could get Elijah to say anything.

“Morning,” he said. Instead of sitting, he leaned back against the wall beside the taller boy. He angled his head up to better see Elijah’s face, his hazel eyes darting over the text. They flashed in his direction.

“Hey,” he smiled. He closed his book, using his thumb to mark his place.

Caleb’s mouth suddenly went dry. He glanced down at the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Elijah about to go back to his book, so he blurted, “So, what exactly do you need help with?”

“Hm?” Elijah finally turned completely in Caleb’s direction. “Oh. The Periodic Table, for one. Writing appropriate lab reports. Memorizing dead white guys that are generally irrelevant to anything we’re doing.” He paused and chuckled. “It doesn’t sound like much when I say it out loud. But it’s --”

“No, that’s a lot,” Caleb grinned. “Even just the Periodic Table is a lot.” He cleared his throat. “I took chem last year, so I might need to brush up a little to help you out, but like I said, I did all right. Do you want to go to the library, or…?”

“I’d prefer the public library, down the street from here,” he said. “I’m sure they have more resources. They’re open later. More space.”

 _More privacy,_ Caleb thought. He looked away, trying to force his muscles to relax, but his body was _humming_. His arm just barely pressed against Elijah’s, and Elijah didn’t seem to notice but the pressure was enough to send Caleb reeling. What would it be like if Elijah wrapped those arms around _him_? Elijah shifted and his arm moved away. Caleb looked back up to see him putting his book back in his backpack.

“You read a lot,” Caleb said. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. _Stupid._

“I guess,” Elijah said. Caleb opened his eyes again and loosened his jaw. “Mostly I like to pretend I’m somewhere else.”

Caleb looked back at Elijah again. “Is it true that you’re joining the military when you graduate?”

Elijah hiked an eyebrow. “You change subjects quick.”

“Sorry.”

Elijah chuckled. “Keeps me on my toes, I guess.”

Caleb nervously chuckled back.

“Yeah. I haven’t decided what branch.”

“Are you from a military family?”

Elijah shook his head. “I just need to get out of here. My grades are okay but nothing good enough to get me a scholarship anywhere. Military’s my best bet.”

“Yeah?” Caleb’s voice was soft. He’d never thought about whether Elijah would be the kind of person to want to stay behind or move on. But apparently, he was too big for this tiny town, too.

“Yeah. I’d like to be a cook. Work the mess hall. Save up some money and start over somewhere else.”

Caleb’s mouth pulled down. “Start over?”

Elijah shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He pulled out his phone to glance at the time. “I just don’t want to get stuck here like my parents and teachers did.”

“I feel you,” Caleb said. “I’d like to go to Chicago someday. Maybe California somewhere. But realistically I’m even okay with relocating to Tempe or Tucson.”

Elijah chuckled again. “Yeah,” he said softly. When he shifted his weight to his left foot, his elbow brushed against Caleb’s arm again. Caleb tensed. Elijah didn’t seem to notice. “Anywhere’s better than here.”

“Yeah,” Caleb repeated, and he just managed to keep the hitch out of his already too-high voice.

They fell silent. Caleb looked down at his feet, pigeon-toed and dirty sneakered, then over at Elijah’s Army boots, straight and polished and perfect. For a while, they said nothing, standing side by side in the quiet hallway, until a pair of echoing footsteps approached and they both looked up. Mr. Bingham grinned at them.

“Morning, boys,” he said. “You must really look forward to my class. You’re always here before I am. Since you’re both here, I might as well let you know now.” Mr. Bingham entered the classroom, holding the door open for Caleb and Elijah. Elijah went straight for his desk, dropping his backpack and sliding into his seat, but Caleb lingered.

“Know what now?”

“I’m assigning a project and I’d like you to have a topic by tomorrow morning,” he said. “You’ll work in pairs. I’m letting you choose who you work with, but the grade is split down the middle no matter who does what, so make sure you choose wisely.”

Caleb glanced over at Elijah, deep back into his book again. He’d said he had pretty good grades, and he obviously cared about doing well in class if he reached out to Caleb for help with chemistry.

“Want to work together?”

Elijah didn’t answer. He turned the page. A small, fond smile tugged at Caleb’s mouth. He approached Elijah’s desk, gently tapping the edge. Elijah finally looked up.

“Hm?”

“Want to work together? On the project Mr. B. was talking about?”

“Oh,” Elijah said. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He didn’t sound hesitant, but he wasn’t enthusiastic, either.

“We don’t have to?” Caleb added. The awkward lilt at the end of his sentence turned it into an unsure question. “I mean, if you were thinking about someone else, I could just --”

“No, no,” Elijah said. He finally put his book down on the desk. “Sorry. No, we can work together. I think that would probably work out well. You seem like someone who’d pull his own weight.”

“Wow,” Caleb laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Elijah dragged his hand down his cheek. He groaned. “Sorry. I’ve been told I can be too blunt sometimes. I just meant I’ve been in some pretty bad group projects before, but I think I can trust you with the work. That’s all.”

Caleb grinned and nudged Elijah’s shoulder with his elbow. “I’ve got you. I spend hours in the library working on homework before I go home. I’m a huge nerd.”

Elijah laughed and gestured to his book. “I’m the last person to judge.”

The door opened and a few more students trickled in, a few more after that, until the warning bell rang and the rest all swarmed in at once. Caleb sat down and slipped on his glasses, grinning brightly, shoulders straight, head held high.

 

“So, I’ve only got a minute because my next class is literally at the other end of the school, but I just wanted to go over project ideas with you?”

Elijah was putting his books away as Caleb spoke, but he looked up at the pause. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we should figure it out after school, though? I have JROTC but I can text you afterward.”

“Okay.” Caleb stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “That’s probably better. My next teacher hates me so I can’t afford to be late.”

“Why would someone hate you?”

Caleb froze. Elijah stood, then looked back over. He paused, one backpack strap halfway up his arm.

“I mean, you’re so laid back and nice. Why would anyone have a problem with that?”

Caleb swallowed and tugged his hoodie forward to obscure his chest even further. Elijah slid his backpack on, but didn’t break his gaze away from Caleb’s face.

“The… the gender thing,” Caleb finally whispered.

Elijah’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You know the trans kid that goes here?”

“I’ve heard of him,” Elijah said.

“That’s… he’s me.”

Elijah’s eyes darted around Caleb’s face before they lit up with recognition. “Shit, really?” he said. “I just assumed you were a little on the feminine side.”

“Yeah.”

“So people hate you because of that.”

Caleb swallowed hard and nodded, curling his shoulders in on himself.

“Such bullshit,” Elijah muttered. Caleb looked down. Elijah nudged his shoulder and said gently, “Anyone gives you trouble, you come to me, and I’ll take care of it, all right? I can’t help you with the teachers, but I can deal with anything else.”

Caleb looked up. “What?” he could barely get the word over his dried-up tongue.

“Caleb, you’re cool as hell, and anyone who cares about something like that isn’t worth your time. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll text you after JROTC.”

Caleb watched him go, frozen to the floor until another student bumped his shoulder as she brushed by. He looked up at the clock on the wall. He had two minutes. He darted to his next class.

 

Elijah didn’t get back to Caleb until after he’d eaten dinner and hidden back in his room again. When he did, the simple text was not what Caleb had been expecting.

_Sorry we had to cut our conversation short earlier. Thanks for coming out to me. I’m glad I could make you feel safe enough._

Caleb re-read the message three times to make sure it said what he thought it did. Thank you? Caleb had thought he’d kept himself fairly composed during the conversation, but had Elijah still been able to tell what a big deal it was? Apparently. Caleb smiled softly to himself.

_Thanks for being so chill about it._

_It’s nothing. So, project ideas?_

Caleb began to type, but then deleted his message and started over.

_Do you have Skype? I feel like a chat program would make this easier._

_Sure. ShinyThing._

_I’m ImmaRockStar. I’ll be on in a minute._

Elijah was already online by the time Caleb had signed in. He sent a message.

 

 **ImmaRockStar** : Hey!

 **ShinyThing** : Hey.

 **ShinyThing** : Do you have any specific topics you’re interested in? It doesn’t really matter to me, other than I’d rather not do the hippie movement because pretty much everyone else probably will.

 **ImmaRockStar** : Yeah, probably. Hippies were the most popular part of the 60s after all.

 **ImmaRockStar** : What about the anti-Vietnam movement? We could focus on the music and media aspect of it. Propaganda on both sides.

 **ShinyThing** : That could be interesting. Or the drug culture? That kind of ties into hippies but it’s still its own separate thing. We could still focus on media and propaganda. Like those crazy anti-drug films?

 **ImmaRockStar** : Haha, yeah. I snorted a whole marijuana and then threw myself off a bridge!

 **ImmaRockstar** : And we could incorporate clips into our presentation to make it more interesting! We could analyze some of the music from the psychedelic movement and the drug imagery.

 **ShinyThing** : You think Mr. B will approve that?

 **ImmaRockStar** : I don’t see why not. It was on the syllabus so we wouldn’t be doing anything really out there.

 **ShinyThing** : Sounds good. Do you want to handle music or film?

 **ImmaRockStar** : I’ll do music? And we can both research the book stuff.

 **ShinyThing** : Want to come over to my house tomorrow after the library so we can figure out a more concrete plan?

 

Alone time with Elijah? Like, _alone_ alone? His parents would probably be there, but…

If Elijah had been okay with him being trans, would he be okay with his crush, too? Could he actually have the opportunity to say something? Would it be possible _Elijah was interested, too?_

Or was he being stupid and about to ruin the rest of their partnership for this project? Caleb looked up when his computer beeped.

 

 **ShinyThing** : You there?

 **ImmaRockStar** : Yeah, sorry. Sure, I can come over tomorrow. Just have to be home by seven.

 **ShinyThing** : I’m sure my parents will let me borrow the car to get you home.

 

Caleb grinned brightly and bounced in his chair, laughing quietly to himself.

Tomorrow was going to be the best day ever.

 

“You’ll never guess where I’m going tonight,” Caleb grinned.

“Stop moving your arm,” Kirelle said. “I’m doing some detail work on the carp.”

Caleb stilled. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Where?”

“The moon,” Chailyn said.

“No.”

“Mars.”

“Chailyn, I’m being serious.”

“And I’m not?”

Caleb laughed. Kirelle nudged him in the back with her knee.

“So, then, tell us. Where are you going today?”

“I’m going to Elijah Abrams’s house.”

His friends fell silent, then chorused together, “ _What_?”

“How did you manage that?” Chailyn asked. “He doesn’t talk to anybody outside of his circle.”

“No, he’s really nice,” Caleb said. “He seems aloof and stuck up but he’s actually just a quiet guy. He keeps to himself if you leave him alone but he always talks to me if I start the conversation first.”

“So, is this like a date, or…”

“No, no,” Caleb said. “We’re doing a project together in our history class.”

“Ah,” Chailyn said. “Well, you’ve seen the movies. That’s how it starts!” She threw him double pistol fingers and a wink.

Caleb laughed. _Maybe_ , he thought. And despite how afraid he was to hope, he couldn’t help but to, anyway.

 

It was already going past 3:10 and Caleb was still standing alone at his locker, waiting. Elijah had said they’d meet after class and go over to the library together. Had he forgotten and gone straight there? Should Caleb text him? He didn’t want to be a pest.

But he needed to know whether he should keep waiting. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent Elijah a quick text.

_Are we still meeting by my locker?_

Elijah didn’t answer immediately. Caleb slipped his phone back in his pocket, resting his hand over the fabric to be sure he could feel it if it vibrated.

It was 3:15 when Elijah finally arrived.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “My English teacher wanted me after class about an essay.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I just got a C and she wanted to offer me the chance to revise it for a higher grade.”

“That’s cool of her,” Caleb said. “But how did you manage a C? You read all the time.”

“Yeah.” Elijah smiled wryly. “Reading The Hobbit fifteen times and writing essays about Steinbeck are two really different things.”

“I guess,” Caleb laughed.

Elijah chuckled, but didn’t say anything more.

The walk to the library was mostly silent, but it was only down the street, so they arrived before it had time to get awkward or uncomfortable. They grabbed a small table near the back of the young adult section in a quiet, private corner. The library workers were good about keeping people quiet, but Caleb also didn’t want to risk disturbing anyone else by talking too much.

“So, where do you want to start?” Caleb asked.

Elijah rubbed the back of his neck. “The Periodic Table, I guess,” he said. “We test on that first.”

“Okay.” Caleb dug around in the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a large envelope. “So, I know it’s kind of dumb, but I made flashcards last year and they saved my life, so I thought we’d start with that.”

“Not dumb,” Elijah said. Caleb smiled and ducked his head to hide his flushed nose.

“So,” he finally continued, “We’ll go through with the abbreviations first, pull out all the ones you know, and then drill the rest, and after a while, we’ll switch and do it the other way. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” Elijah moved his chair a little closer. If Caleb moved just a bit to the right, their shoulders could have touched. He cleared his throat.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get started.”

Elijah knew more than he’d thought he did. Caleb was surprised by how much: Elijah had made it sound like he knew next to nothing, but he got just over half of the flashcards right on the first try, and most of the ones he didn’t know he got the second time around. When they reached the end, Caleb shuffled them up and started over.

“I have flashcards for the scientists, too,” he said. He stacked the cards back up and rapped them against the table to straighten the pile. “If you want to do that, next.”

“I think I need a break,” Elijah chuckled. “I mean, I remember it now, but I don’t know if I’ll still remember tomorrow.”

“You can have the flashcards if you want,” Caleb offered. “I mean, I don’t need them anymore.”

Elijah smiled. “Yeah. Thanks.”

They both fell quiet.

“Why don’t we go back to my house?” Elijah finally asked. “Since we’re going there eventually, anyway. We can work a little on our project in between chemistry.”

“Sure,” Caleb smiled.

“Thank you, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing.” Caleb looked down at the flashcards as he shuffled them. Anything to keep his hands busy. Anything to keep him distracted from how warm Elijah was, so near to him, from the smell of his conditioner and the sound of his breath.

Anything to keep him from thinking about how much he wanted to ask, _Can I kiss you?_

“Really,” Elijah murmured. “Thanks.” He gently bumped his shoulder against Caleb’s and straightened his back, gathering up his notebooks and papers. Caleb’s breath caught, and then the back of Elijah’s hand bumped into his wrist as the older boy moved to push himself up from the table, and Caleb remembered how it felt to hold his hand for those few seconds on the first day back at school.

Elijah checked his phone. “The next bus comes in a few minutes. We can catch it if we hurry.”


	4. Chapter 4

Elijah’s house was small, but with two floors: a living room, kitchen, and bathroom at the bottom, and two bedrooms and another bathroom at the top. As he pushed open the front door, he called out, “Anyone home?”

No answer.

“My parents must still be at work,” he said. He entered the foyer and kicked off his shoes. Caleb followed suit. Elijah glanced at the clock over in the living room. “Yeah, it’s only four. They don’t get off until five and six.” He turned back to Caleb and asked, “Do you want to go up to my room or hang out in the kitchen?”

 _Go up to his room!?_ The answer was easy, but Caleb didn’t want to seem weird by being too eager, so he said, “Whichever you want.”

“My room’s more comfortable,” Elijah said, and he started up the stairs.

His room was small but well-kept, with a neatly made bed and shelves full of organized books. He had a small TV and some video games tucked away, clearly not used often, and a desk with nothing on it but a laptop, mouse, and set of speakers. It was clean and sparse, a lot like the way Elijah presented himself, a lot like the way he spoke. He sat down in the chair beside it and gestured Caleb to the bed.

Caleb swallowed, sitting on the very edge, back and knees rigid and face bright pink. He was _sitting on Elijah Abrams’s bed_. How many people at school would kill to be in his place right now?

If Elijah noticed, he didn’t say anything. “So, this project,” he said, digging out a folder and the paper with the assignment guidelines. “I figure we can split up the research half and half, right down the middle? There’s ten points, so five each, and then music for you and video for me?”

“That sounds good,” Caleb squeaked.

Elijah cleared his throat.

“Hang on, let me get my copy and we’ll go through and see.”

They talked a few minutes about who would do what, and eventually split the assignment questions based on who found what most interesting. The media aspect wasn’t a required part of the project, so they would have to build their own parameters.

“I was thinking of using a couple of clips from various anti-drug PSAs and maybe some old posters,” Elijah said. “Here, I’ll show you what I mean.” He grabbed his laptop and sat down beside Caleb on the bed, a little closer than he had to. Their knees bumped. Caleb’s back stiffened again, ears burning, mouth dry. His heart fluttered in a slightly painful but not entirely unpleasant way.

“Are you okay?” Elijah’s voice was soft as he put his laptop to the side. Caleb looked up. “You’re really tense.”

“I…” Caleb started, and then, because he knew he’d never say it if he didn’t say it now, he blurted, “ I just really want to kiss you and I hope that’s not weird and I know I’m nobody special and you have girls crawling all over you at school so you probably don’t --”

“What?”

“I really like you,” Caleb whispered. He looked down and bit his lip. His eyes darted toward the door, back at his feet, over to Elijah’s knees. “And if you don’t like me, that’s okay, we can still do the project and I promise I won’t make it weird or anyth --”

Caleb froze when Elijah’s warm lips pressed against his cheek. What was even happening right now did Elijah really just _kiss_ him? He finally looked up at Elijah’s face.

“Elijah?”

“I really like you, too,” he whispered. “That’s… kind of why I asked if you’d help me with chemistry. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to make things weird if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Even though I’m…” Caleb trailed off, unsure.

“Even though you’re what?” Elijah asked.

“You know,” Caleb whispered. “Trans and everything.”

“So?” Elijah asked.

A slow, relieved smile spread over Caleb’s face. He lowered his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Caleb swallowed and nodded. A relieved laugh bubbled up from his throat and finally, he relaxed, letting his arm and leg bump up against Elijah’s, nudging the older boy’s foot with his own. He broke the quiet.

“Is that it?”

“What?” Elijah bumped his knee back against Caleb’s. Caleb pushed his own leg even closer.

“I mean, no panic, no weirdness, no… anything else?” Caleb was almost afraid to believe it, almost afraid he was being pranked. “I like you and you like me and that’s it?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Elijah chuckled. “Are you complaining?”

“No! I guess the movies just built it up to be this big scary thing.”

Elijah laughed aloud this time.

Another few moments of comfortable silence.

“So, can I ask, are you gay or bi or what?”

“I’m gay,” Elijah murmured. “Nobody knows. Not even my parents.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t want me to,” Caleb whispered. He took Elijah’s hand in his own, running his thumb over the Elijah’s palm.

“Thank you,” Elijah murmured. “It’s just --”

“Trust me, I understand.”

Elijah’s hand tightened on Caleb’s. “Yeah.”

“Elijah, hon?” The call came from downstairs. Elijah jerked his hand away from Caleb’s. Caleb flinched, and Elijah’s hand hovered awkwardly over Caleb’s knee before he gently laid it down in his own lap.

“Sorry,” he said. “Mom’s home.” He straightened and leaned forward to peer out the door, “Hey, Mom!” he called. He stood, pushing his laptop to the side. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go downstairs. She’ll want to meet you.”

Caleb trailed down the stairs behind Elijah like a nervous kitten. His hands were shoved deep in his hoodie pockets and he hunched forward, a nervous habit, subconsciously trying to shrink to a less noticeable size and hide his chest all at once.

Elijah’s mom was in the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge.

“Hey,” Elijah said.

“Hey, sweetie.”

Elijah flushed and nervously scratched the back of his neck. Caleb bit his lip. He smiled. God, Elijah was adorable.

“Mom, I have company.”

“Oh!” She whirled around, her long brown and silver braid falling behind her. “I’m sorry!” She was a tall, slim woman, dressed in a well-tailored blouse and slacks. “I’m Grace,” she said, holding out her hand. Caleb shook it. His palms were sweaty. She didn’t comment.

“Caleb,” he introduced himself. “Elijah and I are working on a project for school.”

Her eyes darted over to her son. She had the same sharp nose, the same bright hazel eyes and golden skin. “What project is that?”

“It’s for history,” Elijah said. “It was just assigned but we wanted to get started right away. We’re going to do a presentation about the drug culture in the ‘60s.”

Grace laughed and lowered her voice. “Well,” she said with twinkling, mischievous eyes, “You can ask me for help if you need an insider’s perspective.”

“Mom!”

“I was in college in the ‘60s,” she said simply. Caleb laughed. Grace’s face went momentarily stern and she pointed sharply at Elijah. “And you, you just do as I say and not as I did. I like to think you can learn from my mistakes.”

Elijah chuckled and rubbed at his nose, glancing over at Caleb from the corner of his eye. Grace smiled and kissed her son’s cheek as she walked by.

“Have you kids eaten?” she asked. “There’s still some matzo ball soup in the fridge I could heat up. We’ve got to take advantage of the soup weather while we still have it!”

Elijah looked over at Caleb, one eyebrow raised. Caleb shrugged.

“Sure,” Elijah said. “We’ll have some soup. We could use a break.”

 _A break from what?_ But Caleb didn’t say it aloud. He didn’t want Elijah’s mom to know how little they’d accomplished since they’d gotten back.

“All right,” Grace said. “I’ll get that going, then. Elijah, get your friend something to drink in the meantime!”

“We have a fridge with drinks in the garage,” he said. He gestured for Caleb to follow him out of the kitchen. “You can pick whatever you want.”

The garage was at least ten degrees colder than the house was, and colder still standing in front of the open fridge.

“Take your pick,” Elijah said.

Caleb popped up on his toes and pressed a kiss to Elijah’s cheek. Elijah stilled.

“For earlier,” Caleb murmured. “Since I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back.”

Elijah didn’t answer right away and Caleb was about to start panicking when Elijah finally turned toward him. He was bright red, but he was smiling. He curled his hand around Caleb’s jaw and leaned closer.

The kiss was soft and gentle and chaste and it sent Caleb’s head reeling. It was tentative and shy and enthusiastic all at once, and it was perfect. He’d had crushes, yes, but he’d never kissed a guy before. It wasn’t that much different from kissing a girl. His face was a little rougher, angled, but so warm, and his lips were so gentle. Elijah pulled away first, but stayed close enough that Caleb could still feel his breath on his lips.

“Elijah?” Caleb whispered.

“I don’t half-ass anything,” Elijah said. “And I wasn’t about to start now.”

“I feel like this is kind of weird,” Caleb blurted. Elijah’s smile faded and he began to move back. Caleb grabbed his shoulder to keep him still.

“No, I mean, we… we know things about each other, but we don’t really _know_ each other? And we’re…”

“Should I not do that again?” Elijah asked. Caleb’s other hand darted out for Elijah’s.

“No, you should definitely do that again. We should just…” Elijah waited for Caleb to finish, but he didn’t.

“Take it slow?” he finally added.

“Yeah,” Caleb whispered. Elijah smiled, a little nervous, a little relieved.

“Yeah. I agree.” He glanced away and into the still open fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water for himself and gestured Caleb in. “Go ahead and grab something. We’ll go back inside. After my mom feeds us, we’ll talk about it a little more.”


	5. Chapter 5

“You _what_?” Kirelle and Chailyn shouted in chorus. Caleb jerked back against the wall of the planter in surprise.

It was lunchtime the next day. All three friends sat on the ground in a tiny triangle, so close their knees touched. A girl walking past glanced at them with a confused look, but kept going.

“Lower your voices!” Caleb hissed. “Jeez, guys.”

“Sorry,” Kirelle said. “So, what, is he your boyfriend now?”

Caleb bit the side of his thumb. It had the residual taste of pizza sauce. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t think _either_ of us is sure. But we kissed, so that means we’re _something_ , right?”

“Well… not _necessarily_?” Chailyn said hesitantly. Caleb shot her a scandalized look. She held up her hands in defense. “I mean, people who aren’t together kiss all the time, right?”

“I think that’s just you,” Kirelle laughed. Chailyn stuck out her tongue, but she was smiling.

“Maybe guys and girls,” Caleb said. “But not like… not two guys. He risked a lot by kissing me. Like, I could destroy him with it if I wanted to. Which I obviously don’t, but…” He paused and looked between his friends. “By the way, you can’t tell _anyone._ He’s not out.”

Chailyn saluted and Kirelle jostled his shoulder.

“You got it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Chailyn added. “So, what are you going to do about school?”

“Nothing,” Caleb shrugged. “Everything stays the same. We’re just friends who sit together in class.”

Chailyn shot Caleb a sad look and hugged her knees to her chest. “That sucks,” she murmured. “I had to be like that with my last girlfriend.”

“It’s okay,” Caleb said. “I’m not one for big public displays of affection, anyway.”

 

The rest of the day went by in a blur. There was nothing notable about it: classes, homework at the library, helping with the mural at the community center. Caleb left early to get his hair cut, then stop by the movie theatre to ask for an application, which they told him to do online. So he went home and straight to his room and did just that.

The personality test alone took a half hour and he finished just as his mother was calling his family for dinner. Caleb swallowed hard as he stood and pushed his chair into his desk. His parents weren’t going to be happy about the haircut. It wasn’t even anything extreme: his curls were only a couple of inches shorter, now, at his ears instead of his chin. He took a deep breath, steeled himself for the inevitable yelling, and went out to the table.

Caleb was the first to sit down. His mother turned the corner from the kitchen with a dish of greens in her hands. He looked down at the table and squeezed his eyes closed.

“Arianna Ortega!”

He flinched. The dish slammed down on the middle of the table.

“What did you do to your hair!?”

“I… cut it,” Caleb said. His voice wavered and it made him hate himself. A big hand smacked hard against the back of his head and he flinched forward.

“Your hair looks stupid.” It was Manny. “You look like an even bigger dyke now.”

Caleb’s hands tightened in his lap.

“Luis!” His mother screamed. His father ambled into the room.

“What the hell are you screaming about?”

“Just look at what your daughter has done to her hair!”

“ _My_ daughter?” he scoffed. He stepped up beside Caleb. “Let me see.” He curled his fist in the back of Caleb’s hair and sharply pulled his head from left to right. Caleb flinched and squeezed his eyes closed so they couldn’t see the tears beginning, so they couldn’t use that against him, too, because that meant he _couldn’t_ be a boy because boys didn’t cry. His father finally let go and smacked him in the back of his sore head.

“Don’t do it again,” he said.

“That’s _it_?” his mother shrieked.

“What do you want me to do, Mia? It’s done. She looks like an idiot but I can’t glue her hair back on.” He looked back at Caleb again. “When you get made fun of at school, don’t come home crying. You did this to yourself.”

Caleb nodded, his eyes cast down at his still empty plate.

 

Caleb didn’t go to the library the next morning. He went straight to class, over a half hour early, to wait for Elijah. He wanted to see him before everyone else arrived.

He sat down and leaned against the wall, putting his earbuds in and starting up a Dead Kennedys album. He was three songs in when a gentle hand brushed over the top of his head. He flinched, waiting for the pull that had happened so many times last night, but it never came. He opened his eyes and looked up. It was Elijah.

“Hey,” he said. Caleb pulled out his earphones. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“You just surprised me.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

Elijah leaned back against the wall and lowered himself to the floor. “You got your hair cut,” he said. Caleb nodded.

“It looks really good.”

A weak smile crossed Caleb’s face and he nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Elijah nudged Caleb’s knee with his own. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You’re unusually soft-spoken today.”

“My family’s just jerks,” Caleb said simply. He wrapped up his mp3 player and put it in his backpack. Elijah didn’t push, and for that, Caleb was grateful.

All he said was, “I’m sorry.”

Caleb shrugged. “It’s okay.”

 

Caleb couldn’t linger after class. He had to get to Mrs. Reed’s English class on the other side of the school. He grabbed his usual seat in the back left corner and slid on his glasses, getting out his textbook and the essay that was due. Mrs. Reed entered just before the bell rang.

“All right, class.” Mrs. Reed was a stern woman somewhere in her early forties, short and thin with sharp, severe features. “Pass your essays forward and open your books to page 113. We’re going to read a short story and you’re going to write up a response about it. You will be timed.”

The girl next to Caleb groaned. Caleb sighed and passed his paper to the boy in front of him.

“Arianna,” she said. Caleb flinched. “Please read the first paragraph aloud.”

Caleb opened his mouth. He closed it again, pressing his lips tightly together. He was worth more than this. He didn’t deserve to be humiliated like this in front of the class. His family thought he was worthless, but he _wasn’t_. His friends had been trying to show him that for years, and Elijah had finally gotten it to sink in.

“Arianna,” Mrs. Reed repeated. Her voice was hard. “Please read the first paragraph.”

“My name is Caleb,” he whispered.

“Excuse me? I can’t hear you if you mumble like that.”

“I _said_ , my name is _Caleb_ ,” he repeated. The class went still. Nobody ever corrected Mrs. Reed, whether or not she was wrong about something.

“Arianna --”

“ _Caleb!_ ” The girl next to him sank down in her desk even as he stood, as if she could make herself invisible.

“Sit down _right now_ , Arianna, or I’m going to give you a detention.”

“My name is not Arianna,” he growled.

“Done,” she said. “You’ll get your detention slip after class.”

Caleb had his backpack slung over his shoulder and he was out the door before he could realize what he was doing. He paused ten paces away from the door and froze.

He was so screwed. His parents had wanted him home early today, for the first time in forever. How was he going to explain this to them?

He stayed in the hallway until class was dismissed, then stormed back into Mrs. Reed’s classroom for his detention slip. She handed it to him with a glare and a snort of derision.

“Three days detention,” she said.

Caleb swiped the slip out of her hand.

“Have your parents sign it, _Arianna_.”

He stormed out. When he got outside, he slowed and read the slip.

“Arianna caused a disruption in class by demanding to be called an inappropriate nickname and did not quiet when asked to calm down.”

He punched a locker as he walked through the hall. His knuckles immediately regretted it.

He didn’t get home until 6:30 that night -- although, to be fair, only an hour of that time was spent in detention -- and his parents had wanted him home right after school. Probably to clean the house or do Manny’s chores or something else equally unfair. His father wasn’t yet home from work, but when he came through the front door, he was faced with his fuming mother sitting on the couch.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled. “I got a detention for the next few days.”

She stood and stormed over, grabbing the slip out of his hand before he’d even gotten it out of his pocket.

“Now what did you do?” she asked.

He swallowed. She unfolded the detention slip and her eyes narrowed.

“Arianna, were you telling her to call you that boy’s name?”

He looked down at his feet. Something about being confronted by his mother changed him. He lost every shred of confidence he’d ever had and was suddenly just a frightened little child.

“ _Arianna._ ”

“Yes,” he said.

“Give me that shirt thing you always wear.”

Caleb’s head jerked up. “What?”

“That shirt thing you use to flatten your chest. Give it to me.”

Caleb took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Mom, I need it for --”

“You _need_ to give it to me, is what you need.” She took a step forward. Caleb took another one back.

Then, suddenly, his mother’s hands were on his shirt, roughly pulling it over his head. The Velcro of his binder ripped open and she pulled, hard, sending him stumbling forward. She grabbed his arm and wrenched the undone binder away from his shoulder. Caleb cried out when his elbow twisted, but he still lunged forward to try to grab the binder back. She stormed into the kitchen. Caleb chased after her.

When he turned the corner, she had a pair of scissors in her hand, poised at the binder’s hem, ready to rip it apart.

“No!” he cried. “Mom, please!”

The scissors flashed in the yellow kitchen light. Caleb leapt forward, grasping at his binder. His fingers caught, but not for long enough, and his mother jerked it back.

“I am _done_ with you, Arianna!” she screamed. “I have had _enough!_ You are my _daughter_ and you are going to start acting like it!”

“No! Mom, I need it! _Please_!”

The scissors shearing through the elastic fabric tore straight into Caleb’s chest and he shrieked, grabbing out at it again. The edge of the scissors caught on his arm and his mother jerked back.

Blood on the white linoleum. Slow, languid splatters. _Drip. Drip._ The room was silent but for Caleb’s panicked, wheezing breathing.

“Mom,” he finally sobbed. It snapped his mother out of her daze and she sneered, dropping the shredded binder onto the growing puddle of blood on the floor.

“Clean yourself up,” she spat. “You’re making a mess.”

She stormed out of the kitchen and Caleb dropped to his knees, his bleeding arm ignored as he picked up the remaining pieces of his binder, trying to piece them together like a puzzle with no joints. He pushed the edges together tightly but they wouldn’t stick, and finally, he balled it up and pressed it hard against his arm to staunch the blood. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was long, and it bled heavily. He stayed like that for a very long time, kneeling on the hard kitchen floor with his arms curled over his chest, one hand balled tight in the remains of his binder, the other tucked under his elbow.

He could order another one. Binders were easy to find online. And it wasn’t safe, but in a pinch, he could use a sports bra and a bandage until it arrived. But she’d just cut that one, too, and the next one, and the next, and it would go on forever. She’d slowly tear him apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but fear and submission.

“Fuck this,” he whispered. He stood and checked his arm, and, seeing that the blood had stopped, he dropped what was left of his binder to the ground. The community center would be closed this late and the only person who lived anywhere near him was Kirelle, so that was where he would go. Her parents might send him back, but he had to get out, even if it was only temporary.

He went back into the living room. His backpack was right where he’d dropped it. Still in nothing but his clothes from school and his undershirt, he slung it over his shoulder, grabbed his keys, and went out the door.

Kirelle wasn’t close, but she was within walking distance. The walk just took a while. The sunset shot bright reds and oranges and yellows streaming across the sky, but its beauty was completely lost on Caleb, who had his eyes trained firmly on his feet. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Kirelle or her parents. Her parents were good people, but he didn’t know if they’d send him back if they knew he’d temporarily run away.

It took him almost twenty minutes to get there, and when he finally did, nobody answered the door. He knocked again. Again. Rang the doorbell. Nothing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent Kirelle a text.

_Are you home?_

She didn’t reply right away. He sat down on the step in front of the door and let his backpack fall off of one shoulder. Finally, about ten minutes later, she responded.

_No, my brother has a pageant thing at his school. We’re going to be out late._

Caleb leaned forward, head heavy on his knees. Where else was there? Chailyn lived too far away to walk.

There was Elijah. He’d have to take the bus, but only one, and he’d have to transfer if he wanted to get to Chailyn. Elijah would want to see him, right? He’d said if Caleb ever needed help, he could go to him, right?

He stood. He headed to the corner, where he walked two streets down to catch the bus to Elijah’s house.


	6. Chapter 6

Caleb threw another pebble at Elijah’s window.

 _Please be home._ If Elijah wasn’t here, there was nowhere else to go. Chailyn and Kirelle both lived too far away to walk from here and the buses were no longer running. He knew he was more likely to get an answer if he rang the doorbell, but it might be one of his parents, and then he’d have to explain his arm. Things were bad where he was, but foster care would be worse.

He waited a few moments. He threw another pebble.

There was a click from above his head. The window shuddered, then opened. Elijah poked his head out. His hair was disheveled and Caleb could barely make out his face in the darkness of the late evening, but he’d never been happier to see someone in his life.

“Caleb?” Elijah stage-whispered.

“Can I come in?”

Elijah pulled back inside, then popped his head out again. “I’ll come get the front door.”

He shut the window. Caleb hopped back over the fence and went around to the front. He bounced on his feet and tucked his hands under his armpits to warm himself up. It had to have been below forty degrees and he was only in his short-sleeved undershirt.

It wasn’t long until Elijah was at the door.

“Are your parents up?” Caleb whispered.

“Yeah, but they’re in their room. What’s --”

“Please, can I come in? I’ll be quiet. I swear.”

“Yeah.” Elijah stepped to the side, gently taking Caleb’s arm to lead him in. Caleb flinched. Elijah jerked his hand away.

“What’s wrong?”

Caleb looked up at Elijah, his head lowered but eyes raised, trying to hide behind his hair. He swallowed and held out his arm. Elijah hissed through his teeth.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Caleb said quickly.

“Come into the bathroom with me,” Elijah said simultaneously. “The light’s better and I can help you clean it up. You can explain to me up there.”

Caleb nodded and followed Elijah up the stairs. When they reached the top, the older boy peered to the left, in the direction of his parents’ room. The door was closed and there was no light beneath the bottom crack.

“I think they’re asleep, now,” he whispered. “But be quiet just in case.”

Caleb nodded, silent.

Elijah turned the other direction and ushered Caleb into the small bathroom. He closed the toilet and sat on the lid as Elijah dug through one of the cabinets under the sink. When he stood back up, there was a cloth in one hand and a bandage in the other. He ran some water over the cloth and sat on the edge of the bathtub, gently taking Caleb’s arm.

Caleb hissed softly when the hot, wet towel touched his skin and Elijah started cleaning off the blood dried around the wound. It slowly softened and melted away. Caleb still didn’t speak.

“What happened?” Elijah murmured. He didn’t look at Caleb’s face, and Caleb was so grateful. He didn’t want his… whatever Elijah was, to see the tears in his eyes.

“My mom --” he started.

“Your mom did this?” Elijah’s interruption was angry, vehement. Caleb flinched.

“Sorry,” he whispered, gentling his voice. “Go ahead.”

“We got in a fight because I got detention. I finally stood up to Mrs. Reed and she was pissed.”

Elijah glanced up at Caleb’s face. “She’s the one who always messes up your name, right?”

Caleb nodded. Elijah went back to his arm.

“So Mom decided she was going to teach me a lesson and took my binder and threatened to cut it up. I tried to get it back but she accidentally got me with the scissors.” Caleb’s voice wavered. “I _think_ it was an accident,” he choked. But even if it had been, she’d probably wanted to do it for a long time and just needed the right circumstances. “I don’t know if I can wait until I’m seventeen, Elijah.” Caleb’s voice was on the edge of a sob. Elijah’s fingers tightened on his wrist and his other hand stilled. “I need to get out of here. I need to start over somewhere else.” He could file for emancipation as young as sixteen, but with no job and no income, he’d be denied in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” Elijah whispered. He finished cleaning Caleb’s arm, then just as gently dried it off before wrapping it up in the clean bandage. Caleb’s muffled sob finally came out when Elijah kissed his jaw beneath his ear, soft and warm and safe. The bigger boy gathered him up in a hug, his arms tight and firm around Caleb’s shoulders. Caleb let his head fall forward against Elijah’s chest and wrapped his arms around Elijah’s waist. He’d never felt so safe in his life, like as long as he was here, wrapped up in Elijah, nothing could hurt him. At least for a short while.

“Are you hungry or thirsty or anything?” Elijah asked.

 _No_ , Caleb was about to say, but his stomach rumbled before he could get the word out. “A little, I guess,” he said. “But I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, you’re not,” Elijah said. He kissed the top of Caleb’s head and Caleb sank deeper into his arms. “Let’s go back down into the kitchen. I think we have some leftover pizza.”

So Caleb followed him down the stairs. His socked feet padding down seemed so loud in the silent house. Every creak of the stairs made him flinch. He didn’t know how he was going to get home, but he didn’t want to have to think about what Elijah’s parents might do if they found him here uninvited after they’d gone to bed. Elijah’s parents didn’t know he was gay, so they wouldn’t know they were kind of boyfriends, but even so. He didn’t want Elijah to have any trouble because of him.

They walked through the dim living room. The overhead lights were off, but there was a nightlight in every room to illuminate the floors. Elijah flipped the kitchen light on and Caleb blinked rapidly to clear the spots from his vision. Caleb leaned awkwardly against the island in the center of the kitchen while Elijah dug through the fridge. He pulled out a small zip bag.

“We have two pieces,” he said. “Peppers and onions. We don’t eat meat and dairy in the same meal so it’s vegetarian.”

“That’s okay,” Caleb said.

“You can have them both.”

“Thank you.”

Elijah grabbed him a plate and they sat down across from each other at the cozy kitchen table. Elijah nudged his ankle against Caleb’s. Caleb pushed back.

“I like the nightlights in every room,” Caleb said. It was dumb and useless, but he needed to hear Elijah’s voice. Elijah chuckled.

“My mom and I don’t like the dark,” he said. “It took my stepdad a while to get used to it, though.”

“Stepdad?” Caleb asked. He paused, pizza halfway to his mouth. “But you always call him Dad?”

“Well, he is, practically,” Elijah said. “My biological father wasn’t much of one. But Michael’s been there for me since day one. He’s my dad. He’s earned the title.”

“Oh,” Caleb said. “What… why? Did he skip on you?”

Elijah looked down and leaned into his hand, fingers covering his mouth. “Not exactly.”

Caleb put his pizza down. “You want to talk about it?”

Elijah’s fingers tightened. Caleb was sure Elijah was going to shoot him down and change the subject, but after a very, very long silence, he whispered, “He would hit my mom. We stayed for a while, because she thought she could fix it. But then he went after me, and she wouldn’t allow that. So we left. We got the house. He went to prison. I think he’s out now, but if he is, I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care. We have a restraining order on him so he can’t come back.” He swallowed and finally looked up at Caleb again. “That’s why we have the lights,” he said. “So we can remind ourselves he’s not lurking around in the corners anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Caleb whispered. He stretched his arm across the table to offer an upturned hand. Elijah took it. His big, callused palms were sweaty, but Caleb didn’t care. “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“Don’t tell any --”

“Never,” Caleb whispered. “Your family is your business. I’d never spread that around to anyone. You’re safe with me.”

Elijah’s hand tightened on Caleb’s. “Thanks,” he said.

“Is that what you meant when you said you needed to escape?”

Elijah looked up, confused. “What?”

“After we’d known each other for a few days, I mentioned you like to read a lot and you said it was a way to get out for a while. Is that why?”

Elijah’s fingers twitched. “I don’t even remember saying that.” He leaned even heavier against his hand. “But yeah. This house has ghosts of it everywhere. I need to get away from them.”

Caleb squeezed Elijah’s hand. Elijah squeezed back.

Caleb stayed at Elijah’s house that night. After going back and forth for ten minutes about who would get the floor -- “You’re a guest,” Elijah had said, “you should get the bed.” -- they eventually argued their way into sharing it.

“I roll around a lot,” Caleb said. “So I might end up on top of you or something.”

Elijah hooked a dark ringlet behind Caleb’s ear. His smile was playful when he said, “I think I’d be able to deal with that.”

Caleb smiled. Elijah leaned closer, pressing a kiss to Caleb’s cheek, his forehead, his nose, until Caleb pulled him closer and kissed him properly.

“Don’t ever be afraid to kiss me,” he whispered when they pulled apart. “Unless I’m in the middle of a sentence. That’s rude.”

Elijah laughed and nodded, gently bumping his forehead against Caleb’s. He kissed him again, and again, and again. And for those few quiet, gentle minutes, everything was right with the world.

 

It was still dark when Caleb’s eyes fluttered open. The nightlight near the closet door shone soft and white, barely illuminating Elijah’s sleeping form. His shoulders gently rose and fell. Caleb snuggled closer, burrowing into his chest and ducking his head under Elijah’s chin. He closed his eyes.

He groaned softly when the overhead light suddenly turned on. Even with closed eyes, it was too bright.

“Elijah,” he whined. But after a moment he realized Elijah was still in bed next to him, shifting quietly as he woke.

“Elijah.”

It was Grace. Her voice was firm and a little bit angry. Caleb jerked away and Elijah shot up, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m awake,” he said. “Am I late?”

“Elijah Abrams, what is Caleb doing here on a school morning?”

His face went pale. Caleb sat up, timid, hiding behind Elijah’s big shoulders and barely peeking out, like a scared rabbit. His shirt was loose, but if she saw his chest --

“I expect you both dressed and downstairs in five minutes. We need to talk before I go to work.”

And she was gone, the doorframe left empty and leading only into the brightness of the hallway.

“Oh my god,” Elijah said. His voice was quick, panicked. “Oh my god.”

Caleb wrapped his arms around Elijah’s waist and murmured into his shoulder, “It’s okay.” But he didn’t know if that was true.

Elijah was ready for school in moments, but Caleb didn’t have any clothes to change into. He didn’t have a binder. He’d have no choice but to go to school without one. Unless --

“Elijah, do you have any fabric bandages? The stretchy ones you use for sprained ankles and stuff?” He knew he shouldn’t. He knew how dangerous it was, that it could bruise his ribs or constrict his breathing too much, but he couldn’t go to school as he was.

“Yeah,” Elijah said. “I’ll be right back. Help yourself to a shirt and a hoodie.”

Caleb approached Elijah’s small closet and shuffled through the shirts on hangers. They were all so big, way too big for him. Maybe he could bandage on bare skin and just wear his undershirt. It was clean. Just plain white. But he did grab the smallest hoodie he could find, black with a green shamrock on the front.

“Here.” Caleb looked up. Elijah was back. He handed Caleb the bandage and said, “ I assume you want some privacy, so I’ll wait outside the door.” He left and shut the door behind him.

Caleb wrapped the bandage as loosely as he could while still binding his chest down. It would tighten as the day went on and he didn’t want to hurt himself any worse than necessary. He secured it, then tugged a few times to get it into the most comfortable position he could. He pulled his undershirt on and Elijah’s hoodie on over that. When he left the room, Elijah was standing beside the door, his head hanging low in his hand.

“Are you ready?” Caleb murmured. Elijah nodded. Caleb could tell he wasn’t.

He followed Elijah down the stairs, slow and nervous. When they entered the kitchen, Grace was sitting at the table, facing the entrance. “Sit down,” she said. Her voice had gentled a bit from earlier, but it was still firm. The two boys did as they were told. They were silent, waiting for Grace’s questions, or accusations, or… whatever she was going to do.

“First, I want one of you to explain what I walked in on when I came into the room.”

“It was just --”

“Mom, it’s not --”

Grace held up her hand and they both fell silent. “One at a time,” she said. She turned to her son. “Elijah.”

“We were just sleeping,” he said. His voice was soft and it wavered. Caleb had never seen him afraid of anything, but he was clearly scared of his mother right now. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Well, thank god for that, because we haven’t had the safe sex talk with you yet and I don’t trust that your school did a very good job explaining things.”

Elijah’s mouth fell open. Caleb knew he shouldn’t interrupt, but he couldn’t help it. “ _What_?”

“And that’s my fault, and I’m sorry,” Grace continued. “We should have talked about it earlier, but you never seemed interested in dating so I assumed we could put it off. Have you --”

“No!” Elijah cried. Caleb tensed. “Mom, we’ve barely been together a week.”

“Were you planning on telling me?”

Elijah looked down at his hands, curled into each other on the table. “Eventually,” he finally said. His appearance hadn’t changed at all, but something about his downturned face suddenly made him seem younger, vulnerable.

Caleb’s head was spinning with the quick change in direction the conversation had taken. This wasn’t anger. This was concern and worry and surprise. Caleb looked up when Grace stretched her hand across the table. She gestured Elijah closer with her fingers, and he took it. Caleb’s hands loosened a little in his hoodie pockets.

“I’m sorry the first thing you woke up to was me snapping at you,” she said gently. She looked at Caleb. “Both of you. And I want to make it clear, I wasn’t and I’m not angry about your relationship. I was angry that you snuck him in and didn’t just come to me and ask if he could stay.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, but it was kind of a weird and sudden situation and…” Elijah trailed off and his gaze fell to the floor.

Grace’s analyzing eyes darted from Caleb’s injured arm, now clothed, to Elijah’s face. Her brows were furrowed, her lips pursed. But then her face relaxed and became understanding, almost sad.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll let you two off this time. But in the future I’m going to need you to ask me if he can stay, all right, Elijah? I don’t want you sneaking around on me. We’re honest with each other in this house. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She turned to Caleb, waiting.

“Um, yes, Miss Abrams,” he finally said.

“Okay,” she said. She squeezed Elijah’s hand one more time and stood. As she walked past them, she planted kisses on both of their heads. “I have to get to work,” she said. “There’s sandwiches for you in the fridge if you don’t want to buy your lunch, or you can leave them and eat them after school.” She turned to Caleb, who was bright red with his face downturned. “You’re welcome back over this afternoon, Caleb, but I will be checking up on you to make sure you’re still working on your project.” She paused and looked back at Elijah. “You _are_ really working on a project, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Elijah said.

“Okay.” She ran her hand over the back of Elijah’s head, gentle and motherly. One more kiss for each of them, and she was out the door, calling over her shoulder, “Be safe and text me when you get to school!”

The door closed with a loud click, and Elijah deflated. His head fell into his hands. His breath came much too fast. Caleb clenched his hands again, still buried deep in the pockets of the warm, too-big hoodie.

“Elijah?” he asked softly.

“I’m just so relieved,” Elijah whispered. Caleb leaned in closer, shoulder to shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE don't bind with ace bandages, you WILL hurt yourself


	7. Chapter 7

Elijah took the city bus to school, too. He and Caleb sat side by side in the back, near enough to feel each other’s warmth, but not to touch. There were only a few other people around, and Caleb _hated_ it -- he didn’t need to make out with Elijah at every available moment or anything, but it would have been so comforting to hold his hand.

Caleb still didn’t know what he was going to do when he got home from school tonight. His parents would be furious. They’d been physical with him before, pulling his hair or smacking him on the back of the head, but this time, he was terrified there would be actual, real physical violence waiting for him when he got home, when Elijah wouldn’t be there to protect him.

It took a little over twenty minutes to get to school, and the halls were still quiet and mostly empty when they made their way to the classroom. Again, they arrived before Mr. Bingham did. Elijah didn’t pull out his book this time, instead leaning against the wall next to Caleb.

“What are you going to do about your mom?” he whispered. There was nobody around to hear, but the halls would echo, and Elijah didn’t want any extra attention drawn to them if there didn’t have to be.

“Nothing, probably,” Caleb snorted. “There’s nothing I _can_ do. Just try to stay out of her way, I guess. I’ll order a new binder and have it sent to my friend’s house. I’ll keep it in my locker here at school and change here.”

“Caleb, you can’t go back there --”

“I have to,” he said. “If I’m gone for too long, eventually they’ll call the cops. I don’t want your family to have any trouble because of me.” He shrugged, looking down at his worn sneakers, and sighed. “It is what it is and it’s not going to change. Once I can finally start working, I can get out of there. But not until then. I just have to keep my head down and keep to myself.”

Elijah huffed in frustration, but didn’t argue. And even though Caleb was glad, because he didn’t feel up to an argument, he almost wished that Elijah would.

 

“I really have to be home by 6:30 tonight,” Caleb said. Elijah unlocked the door and let them inside. They kicked off their shoes. The laminate tile of the foyer was cold on Caleb’s feet even through his socks. “I have to be there for dinner.”

“Okay,” Elijah said, but it was slow and reluctant. “Mom gets home around 5:30. We can borrow her car and I’ll give you a ride so you don’t have to take the bus all that way.”

“Thank you.”

 

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Elijah asked. They were idling in Caleb’s parking lot somewhat near his apartment, as close as they could get without driving on the grass.

“I don’t know,” Caleb whispered. “But I’ll keep in touch with you, okay?”

“Do you want to have a code word or something? If you need me to come get you?”

Caleb fell quiet, thinking. “Animal,” he finally said. “Let’s use animal.”

Caleb turned away from the window when Elijah’s hand rested on his knee. “Please be careful,” he said. “Please.”

Caleb offered a weak smile. “Hey, I’ve managed this long. A couple more months? I’ve got this.”

Elijah’s hand tightened, then dropped away when Caleb stepped out of the car. He waved through the window and offered a thumbs-up, then headed onto the apartment grounds as Elijah drove away.

It was just past 6:30 when he walked in the door. The apartment smelled of cooking dinner, of tomato sauce and garlic, and it would have been pleasant to come home to if not for the people he would have to share it with.

His parents were both in the living room, watching TV with their backs turned to him.

“Arianna,” his mom said. He froze. He lowered his hands and clenched his teeth, breathing in hard through his nose as he waited for the inevitable hit. It never came. “You never did the dishes last night. You’d better get them all done tonight or you’ll be in a hell of a lot of trouble.”

Caleb opened his eyes. Was that it? After that whole scene last night, after the fight and the cut and the screaming, all he got upon coming home was ‘You didn’t do the dishes’? Had they even noticed he was gone?

“Did you hear your mother?”

“Yes, dad,” Caleb whispered. “I’ll start on them now and finish them after dinner.”

He dropped his backpack in his room and kicked off his shoes. He pulled off his shirt and finally undid the bandage. It hadn’t been that uncomfortable, but he hadn’t realized how much it restricted his breathing until it was gone and he could breathe freely. He wrapped the bandage up and put it on the desk, then pulled his shirt back on. He left Elijah’s hoodie crumpled up on the bed so he wouldn’t get it dirty.

They had a dishwasher so it wasn’t that much of a chore, but the pots and pans from last night’s dinner still had food stuck to the bottoms and sides, bits of vegetables and smears of sauce. He scrubbed hard at each dish so they’d come out of the wash clean, trying to ignore the hot, sharp tears pricking at his eyes.

They cared so little about him they hadn’t even noticed he was missing for almost twenty-four hours. Maybe he _could_ stay with Elijah, or with Kirelle or Chailyn. Probably not Chailyn. Her parents would never allow a boy to sleep over. But maybe if he up and disappeared, nobody would notice, and nobody would care, and he could start over without the stresses of tiptoeing around people he hated and always being on edge for the next inevitable screaming match.

Nobody mentioned his absence during dinner. His mother kept looking over at him with a disapproving scowl and muttering about “How she ruined her beautiful hair,” but there was no acknowledgement of the fight, of the cut, of the destroyed binder, despite the huge bandage still on his arm from last night. His father and brother didn’t even ask him what had happened. Maybe his mom had told them. Maybe not. Maybe they thought it happened at school. Whatever they thought, he knew they thought he deserved it.

 

Caleb had to drag himself to school the next day. He wanted to be there, he wanted to see Elijah, to see his friends. He was even looking forward to some of his classes. But he didn’t want to deal with Mrs. Reed, who hadn’t been swayed at all by his outburst two days ago, and he didn’t want to have to explain to Elijah how little his family cared about him. Kirelle and Chailyn didn’t know about the fight, yet, because he’d been wearing Elijah’s hoodie all day and Kirelle hadn’t done any new marker tattoos, so neither of them saw the wound on his arm. But it was only a matter of when they would find out.

Instead of leaning against the wall, Caleb tucked himself around the corner on the outside of the doorway, curling into himself and pushing his back hard against the wall, like a shield. Elijah wasn’t there yet, but Caleb had known he wouldn’t be. A few minutes later, however, rapid footsteps thunked down the hall, closer and closer, and Elijah appeared around the corner, his face more concerned than Caleb had ever seen it before.

“Oh, thank god,” Elijah whispered. He dropped to his knees in front of Caleb and pulled him into a hug, as if he didn’t realize they were right in the middle of the school. Nobody else was around, but still. What if someone came? But Caleb didn’t care, and Elijah didn’t seem to, either. All Caleb cared about was Elijah’s warm arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and the older boy’s nose in his hair.

“What happened?” Elijah asked. “I almost started panicking when I didn’t hear from you last night.”

“Nothing,” Caleb whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, nothing happened. They didn’t even notice I was gone.”

Elijah pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against Caleb’s. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting over Caleb’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.

“Okay, break it up.”

Elijah jumped back at the voice. It was Mr. Bingham, standing above them with one eyebrow raised. Caleb shrank further into himself and Elijah sat beside him, face bright red and eyes wide.

“The no PDA rule goes for everyone, kids. Save it for after school, all right?” But Mr. Bingham was smiling, even though it was small. He unlocked the door. “Come on in whenever you’re ready,” he said. He disappeared inside the classroom. Caleb and Elijah turned to each other.

“I was… not expecting that to ever happen,” Elijah said.

“Well… Mr. Bingham’s cool. He’s never made an issue out of my situation.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting him to be _that_ cool.”

“He’s right, though,” Caleb said. “We need to be more careful.”

“I know,” Elijah said. “I was just so worried.”

Caleb took Elijah’s hand and kissed his palm. “I’m okay,” he said. “For now, at least. Like I said yesterday, I just have to keep my head down for a while.”

Another set of footsteps clicked from somewhere down the hall, and another, and another. Caleb let go of Elijah’s hand and they both stood.

 

“Hey, Chailyn?”

Chailyn looked up from her lunch and over at Caleb, who sat on the ground, leaning back against the planter with his knees tucked up to his chest.

“Yes?” She drew the word out into three syllables.

“Well, I guess this is a question for both of you, really,” Caleb continued. He glanced over at Kirelle, who was texting someone. He jostled her shoulder. “So I need everyone’s attention for a second.”

“Mm-hm,” Kirelle mumbled, she finished her text and slid her phone in her pocket.

“Who are you texting anyway?”

“I’ll bet it’s that guy from her algebra class,” Chailyn teased.

“It’s my brother, actually, so you could not possibly be any more wrong. I was just reminding him that I’m picking him up from school instead of Mom.” Chailyn deflated and Kirelle turned toward Caleb. “What’s up?”

“Well, I wanted to know if I could invite Elijah to go diving with us tomorrow?”

“Can we trust him not to rat us out?” Chailyn was suspicious.

“Yes, we can trust him.” Caleb rolled his eyes. “He proved that to me a few days ago.”

“Oh?”

“Never mind. Nothing. So is it cool if I invite him?”

“Sure,” Chailyn said. “I’m cool with it.”

“I don’t care,” Kirelle said. “Hey, can I see your left arm? I want to see how my carp is looking.”

Caleb froze. Maybe if he just ignored her question?

“Okay, I’ll ask him this afternoon and let you know. If he says yes you’ll want to pick us up from his house.”

“No problem.”

“Can I see your arm?” Kirelle repeated. “Please?”

“It looks fine,” Caleb said.

“Okay, but I want to see the lines of the scales and see if they bled at all.”

“They didn’t.”

Kirelle frowned. “Caleb, what’s wrong? Why won’t you let me see it? Did you wash it off? It’s okay if you did.”

Caleb hugged his arm to his chest. Kirelle stared at him a moment, then grabbed his elbow and jerked his arm away, pushing up his sleeve. The bandage covered the cut, but it took up most of the back of his forearm. She dropped his arm like it was on fire.

“Oh my god, Caleb, what happened?”

Caleb pulled his sleeve down and looked down into his lap, curling closer into himself.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he whispered.

Kirelle’s eyes narrowed. “Did someone _do_ this to you?”

“I…” he glanced over at Chailyn, who was watching quietly. She scooted herself closer.

“Caleb?” Kirelle murmured.

Caleb shook his head and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. He couldn’t let anyone see him cry. Not even his friends. But his shoulders shook and tears blurred his vision, even though they didn’t fall. Two warm arms, one from either side, wrapped around his shoulders, and Kirelle’s curly hair brushed his neck on one side, the soft, silky fabric of Chailyn’s hijab against the other.

“Talk to us,” Kirelle whispered. “Please?”

Caleb shook his head again, and when Chailyn wrapped her hand around his calf, the tears finally began to fall.

It took almost the whole lunch period for Kirelle and Chailyn to wheedle it out of him. But there was nothing anyone could do, and they all knew that.

“Have you had any luck finding a job?” Kirelle asked.

“No.” Caleb shook his head. “The movie theatre never called me back and nobody else I can get to is hiring.”

“Maybe you can do work for people around your neighborhood?” Chailyn suggested. “Mowing lawns, picking up groceries, changing light bulbs, whatever.”

“Maybe,” Caleb whispered. His nose was still buried tight against his knees. “I have a little money saved up from gifts from birthdays and Christmases, but not that much. Only a few hundred dollars. Not enough.”

Kirelle bit her lip. Everyone was silent for a moment, then she broke it by saying. “If you want, I can talk to my parents and you can try to stay with us. I can’t promise anything. I’ll have to tell them what’s going on, though, or they won’t understand why it’s so important and they’ll say no.”

“I don’t want the police called,” Caleb said.

“They won’t be,” Kirelle assured him.

Caleb swallowed, then nodded his head. “Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to them tonight.”


	8. Chapter 8

Later, when Caleb and Elijah were back at Elijah’s house, studying chemistry and researching for their project, Caleb couldn’t concentrate. He kept dropping the flashcards and closing the wrong tabs in the browser window and misspelling simple words when he tried to use Google. After they’d been back for about an hour, Elijah finally said,

“Caleb, what’s wrong?”

Caleb shook his head. Elijah took the laptop from Caleb’s knees and placed it at the foot of the bed, then turned toward him, bumping their knees together.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“Animal,” Caleb sobbed.

“What?”

“Animal. Animal.”

Elijah watched him for a moment, confused, and then realization dawned across his features. He pulled Caleb into a loose hug, just in case he needed to pull away, but he didn’t. He leaned closer, burying his face in Elijah’s neck.

“I don’t want to go home,” he sobbed.

“I know,” Elijah whispered. He kissed the side of Caleb’s head and gathered him into his lap.

“Your mom is so nice, and I know I haven’t met your stepdad but I’ll bet he’s nice, too, and I just finally feel so normal when I’m over here, like I’m not some gross disgusting freak --”

“Caleb, you are _none_ of those things,” Elijah interrupted.

“I know,” Caleb sniffled. “But after hearing it so much for so long, you start to believe it, even if you know it’s not true.”

Elijah’s touch softened and he rested his hand on the back of Caleb’s head. Big, warm, protective.

“I know,” he whispered. “Believe me, I understand.”

He was talking about his biological father. He had to have been.

“I know,” Caleb whispered back.

For a while, they sat together like that, Caleb curled up tight in Elijah’s lap. But, eventually, being so close while still being wrapped up in Elijah’s hoodie, Caleb started to overheat, so he moved away. He needed to talk about something, anything, that didn’t have to do with his family.

“I want you to come out with me and my friends tomorrow night,” Caleb said. “There’s… we always get together to do…” he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it without sounding gross to someone who might not understand. “We collect stuff for charity,” he finally said. “And I’d like you to come with us sometime.”

“What time?” Elijah asked.

“9:30.”

“PM?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that a little late to be doing something like that?”

Caleb bit his lip, then blurted, “Okay, so we go dumpster diving for charity. But as long as they get what they need it doesn’t matter where it comes from, right?”

“Dumpster diving?” Elijah asked. His eyebrows perked and he tilted his head. “Sounds interesting.”

Caleb smiled and his shoulders and back relaxed. “Yeah. So, if you want to come, wear something in black that you don’t care about, and non-skid boots.”

“Done,” Elijah smiled. He brushed Caleb’s hair away from his eyes.

“I can tell you don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Elijah said. “But know that I’m always here when you do.”

 

The possibility of bringing Elijah back to his apartment would never cross Caleb’s mind. They waited for Chailyn out in the front of Elijah’s house, sitting on the stoop in front of the door side by side. Caleb leaned his head on Elijah’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

He frowned at the sudden bright light behind his eyelids and opened his eyes. Chailyn’s car was here. She rolled down the window and thumbed toward the backseat.

“Hop in!” she said.

Caleb slid into the car and Elijah followed. Kirelle was riding shotgun this time.

“Elijah, this is Chailyn and Kirelle.” Caleb pointed at each of his friends as he said their names. “Guys, this is Elijah.”

“We know,” Chailyn laughed.

“What does that mean?”

She glanced up at Elijah in the rearview mirror.

“Dude, I’m a lesbian and even I can see how attractive you are. Like, half the student body is in love with you.”

“What?” Elijah laughed, soft and disbelieving. Caleb turned toward him. Did he really not know that?

“Yeah,” she continued. “Don’t you hear the murmurs in the halls?”

“I don’t gossip and tend to stay away from people who do,” Elijah said. “So, no, I haven’t.”

“Good man,” Kirelle said, patting his knee before turning back around to face forward.

Caleb smiled, soft and a little crooked.

“Thanks?” Elijah chuckled. “I don’t know. I just keep to myself and mind my own business.”

“I like that in a person,” Kirelle said. She slapped her knees and Caleb jostled against Elijah’s side in the tiny backseat. “So!” Chailyn said. “Since we have Elijah with us tonight, we’re just doing food, because we won’t have space for anything else and that’s the most important thing. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Caleb said.

“Wait, wait,” Elijah said. “You’re diving for _food_? I thought you were looking for clothes and stuff.”

“We do that too, usually,” Caleb said. His hands curled in on his knees. “I mean, the food is safe. Most of it is still perfectly good, and we wash it really well.”

Elijah eyed him doubtfully. He turned his head through the car, looking at each of Caleb’s friends in turn. “Okay,” he finally said. He looked back at Caleb again. “You’ve never steered me wrong before.”

“And I’m not about to start now,” Caleb said. He gently patted Elijah’s knee. Elijah bumped his knuckles against Caleb’s, too shy to take his hand in front of other people. Caleb smiled.

When they got to the first Food City, they immediately headed for the dumpster farthest to the right, where they threw the vegetable garbage. Food City probably had the best dumpsters in town, not only because they didn’t use locks or compactors, but also because they separated their plant and animal waste. Vegetables were one thing, but Caleb and his friends would never expect someone to eat discarded meat.

“All right,” Chailyn said, putting the car in idle. “You know the drill. Let’s move!”

Elijah got out of the car and Caleb followed, rushing past him as Kirelle came out the other door. “This way,” he said. “We have to be fast.”

He opened the dumpster and took a few steps back, about to dart and jump, but then Elijah said, “You want a boost?” Caleb looked up at him and grinned.

“Hell yes,” he laughed. “That would be much easier.”

Elijah pushed Caleb up and over and the smaller boy landed inside the dumpster in a crouch. He pushed himself up and offered his hand for Kirelle, who Elijah was helping up next.

“What did we do without you?” Kirelle laughed.

“If the trash squicks you out, you don’t have to come in,” Caleb said. “We can just hand stuff to you.”

“I think that’s best to start.”

Caleb ducked back down and turned on his flashlight. There was food everywhere. Kirelle turned on her flashlight to make things easier to see, illuminating the produce that had been thrown away earlier that evening. Onions, celery, lettuce, bananas, cabbage, cucumbers, even _watermelons_. The first dumpster of the night and they’d already hit the jackpot.

“Sweet,” Caleb whispered.

Kirelle poked her head out over the top to tell Elijah to find a perch somewhere right outside as Caleb started sifting through the food on top and discarding anything bad. He was already there, standing on top of a pile of broken down boxes and waiting. Kirelle laughed and said, “You are not going to believe the stuff we found in here.”

“You’re probably right,” Elijah chuckled.

“Crates first,” Caleb said. He tossed a moldy watermelon out of a box of four and filled up the empty space with onions and carrots.

They went through everything as quickly and closely as they could in the dark with just the beam of two flashlights. A spaghetti squash, some cucumbers, a bag of cherries with only a spot or two of mold that could easily be fished out in addition to what they found on the top. There was even some parsley that was only a little soggy. As Caleb dug, his hand hit something solid, and he fished out a shrink wrapped package of six boxes of macaroni and cheese. He handed that over, too. Kirelle handed things down to Elijah, who ran them back to the trunk.

Once they’d gone through everything, Caleb and Kirelle launched themselves back over the dumpster wall to help pack everything up in the trunk of the car. They were quick, precise, packing like they were playing Tetris and going for the high score because wasted time could mean a police run-in, which could mean an arrest.

They packed in the last of it and Elijah shut the trunk as quietly as he could. The three of them darted back into the car and Caleb pulled off his gloves, then pulled down his bandana as Chailyn drove off toward the next stop.

“Goddamn,” she grinned. “And this is only our first stop! It’s been a while since we’ve gotten this lucky.”

The next stop was a Holsum Bakery outlet, where they found two full trash bags of bread, still pristine in its packaging, and all they had to do was haul it out and make space for it. Three more dumpsters and the little group was almost as lucky at two of them, although one of the Food City ones was a big pile of nothing. Still, between the other four, they made out like bandits. Which they sort of were, Caleb thought.

Elijah hadn’t gone into any of the dumpsters, but his jeans had smears of grime left from where he’d wiped his hands and there were a few smudges of dirt on his face. Caleb pulled his sleeve down over his hand and wiped them away.

“I think you were our good luck charm tonight,” he said gently. Elijah smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Usually we don’t find this much stuff all in one night.”

Elijah leaned closer to kiss his cheek, but Caleb leaned back, putting his hand up in front of Elijah’s face.

“I’ve been jumping around in dumpsters all night,” he laughed. “I don’t think you want to do that.”

Elijah took his hand and lowered it into his lap.

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

 

Chailyn dropped both Elijah and Caleb back at Elijah’s house. This time, Caleb was staying with permission from both of their parents, sort of -- Caleb’s thought he was staying with Kirelle, but he knew now that they wouldn’t care enough to check up on him and make sure he was there. The two boys said their goodbyes and got out of the car, but Kirelle grabbed Caleb’s wrist and pulled him back.

“Get in and close the door,” she whispered. He did. Elijah turned around and shot him a confused look. Caleb held up one finger. _Just a minute._

“I didn’t know if you’d want him to hear,” she said. “I talked to my parents about you staying with us. They want to research the laws involved with taking in minors and the emancipation process to make sure nobody gets in trouble legally if we do this. My dad’s looking into hiring a lawyer. But so far it looks promising. I’ll keep you updated.”

Caleb grabbed her in a hug and pressed a messy, platonic kiss to her cheek. She laughed and rubbed it away with the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Welcome. Now, go spend some time with your hot boyfriend.”

He smiled and exited the car.

“What was that about?” Elijah took his hand as they walked toward the front door.

“I might be able to move in with Kirelle if we can line everything up right,” Caleb said. “But we have to see.”

“Well,” Elijah said, “in the meantime, you’re always welcome over here whenever. Just ask me the day before so I can clear it with my parents.”

“So, does your dad know?” Caleb asked. “About us?”

“Yeah,” he said. “He’s fine with it. Just, when you spend the night we have to leave the door open and one of us has to sleep on the floor so we can’t get up to anything.” He unlocked the door and let him in. “I’m taking the floor, by the way, and you’re not arguing me out of it this time.”

“But it’s your --”

“When you’re here for the night, it’s _your_ bed.”

After they kicked off their shoes and headed up the stairs, Caleb went straight for the bathroom to wash his face and hands and get out of the bandage around his chest. He watched himself in the mirror as he unwrapped it, flinching when the last line of it fell away. His chest was covered in dark blue and purple bruising. He’d have to get a real binder again. Fast. He couldn’t keep doing this, but he couldn’t go out without a bound chest, either. He pulled on a clean shirt and pair of pajama pants and shuffled back into Elijah’s room.

The door was halfway open, so Caleb entered.

“Elijah, do you have an old plastic bag I can put my dirty clo --”

Elijah turned around and Caleb froze. His shirt was off, his jeans unbuttoned and hanging loose at his hips. Caleb’s breath hitched. Elijah was big, and his shirts were often a little on the tight side and sometimes didn’t leave much to the imagination, but while Caleb had _thought about_ what Elijah might look like without a shirt on, he’d never thought it would be _this_ good. His warm golden skin, the flex of his neck, his sharp shoulder blades, the curve of his muscle over his sides and stomach.

“Sorry,” Caleb squeaked, “I --”

“It’s fine,” Elijah laughed. He pulled on a clean shirt, but left his jeans as they were. He pulled a pair of pajama pants out of his dresser and said, “The JROTC guys change in front of each other all the time. You aren’t seeing anything special.”

Caleb squeaked and covered his eyes when Elijah dropped his jeans so he could change into his pajamas. He stayed like that, standing awkwardly in the doorway with his face buried in his hands, breathing a little too fast. He jumped when Elijah’s hand wrapped around his and he peeked out from behind his fingers.

“Are you okay?” Elijah asked.

Caleb nodded, not trusting his voice to stay steady. Elijah kissed his cheek, lingering by his ear. “Just knock next time,” he chuckled.

“Close your door next time!” Caleb squeaked. He finally gained control of his breathing and heartbeat and dropped his hands. “I mean, it was nice. But you really took me off guard.”

“It was nice?” Elijah asked.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re gorgeous, Elijah. You know that, don’t you?”

Elijah shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

“No.” Caleb held up a finger to silence him. “You are gorgeous. You’re one of, if not _the_ , hottest guy I’ve ever met.”

Elijah’s eyes softened and he smiled. Caleb smiled back. He leaned forward, standing on his toes to reach Elijah for a kiss.

It was their first kiss with tongue, and it was a little awkward and confused at first, but as they moved closer and eased into each other, it grew hotter, more sure, more sensual, and then Elijah had Caleb backed up against the bed with the mattress in the back of his knees as he balanced precariously, gripping tightly to his boyfriend so he wouldn’t fall. He loosened one hand out of Elijah’s hair and felt out behind him to lower himself down to the bed. Elijah crawled in over him, and he was heavy and hot and sturdy and _safe_. Caleb was safe there, pinned underneath him, Elijah’s mouth on his and his rough hand against his side and --

Caleb froze. Elijah stilled, then broke the kiss and pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“I…”

Elijah’s hand was halfway up his side, just below his bruised up ribs. His thumb brushed lightly against them, sending tendrils of pain shooting through his chest.

“I can’t,” Caleb whispered.

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t,” he repeated.

Elijah’s eyes widened in realization and he pulled his hand away, lowering Caleb’s shirt to completely cover his stomach. He leaned back on one arm, giving Caleb space to sit up and move if he needed to. Caleb didn’t. He stayed put.

“Sorry,” Elijah said. “I should have asked. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Caleb said. Their voices were low, soft, like anyone might be listening. “I’m just not as good at ignoring my chest as you are.”

Elijah lowered himself to the bed and Caleb rolled onto his side to face him. “There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said. “It’s just another part of you.”

“It’s not that easy,” Caleb said.

“Can you explain it to me?” Elijah asked. He added quickly, “We won’t do anything you don’t want. But I want to understand. I want to understand everything about you. Even the unhappy things.”

“I don’t know what there is to explain,” Caleb said. He fell quiet, then finally said, “Imagine you’re a kid. All kids pretty much look the same, except their hairstyle and skin color and clothes and whatever, but a kid is a kid is a kid, right? They’re all shaped the same. They all look the same. And so, you think, ‘My body’s kind of messed up, but when I grow up, it’ll fix itself like it did for everyone else.’ And then you hit puberty, and it doesn’t. You grow boobs. You start bleeding every month. People start pushing you around and making fun of you because you don’t look the way they think you should.”

He swallowed hard, looking up to meet Elijah’s eyes for the first time. “Try to imagine that, Elijah. I know you can’t, not _really_ , but think for a few minutes about what that would be like. It’s like if you looked so much like a woman you had to pretend to be one in order to stay safe, but the opposite. Imagine it like that _._ ”

Elijah’s warm hazel eyes stayed locked with Caleb’s as they stared at each other in silence for a long time. Finally, Caleb averted his eyes, and Elijah whispered, “I wish I had something useful to say. ‘I’m sorry’ seems stupid. I don’t…”

“It’s okay.” Caleb wrapped his arms around Elijah’s neck, pulling himself into the bigger boy’s chest. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Elijah wrapped his arms back around Caleb, resting his hand low on the younger boy’s hip.

“I can’t help you with your parents, or with that shitty teacher you have to deal with,” Elijah finally said. “I wish I could. But I’ll help you with anything I can. Please, just come to me and ask, okay?”

Caleb nodded and butted his head against Elijah’s chin. There was nothing his boyfriend could do about anything: Elijah couldn’t get Caleb’s name changed sooner, he couldn’t get him started on hormones, he couldn’t make the emancipation process go any faster, not that it was going at all to begin with.

“You mean a lot to me, Caleb,” Elijah finished. “I just want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” Caleb murmured. He let his eyes slip closed, and, for the moment, enjoyed the closeness that was so much more than just physical.


	9. Chapter 9

A few weeks passed, and nothing changed, because nothing ever changed in Caleb's town. He and Elijah continued to work on the semester's project, Kirelle continued to work with her parents in their attempt to find him a place to stay, the four friends went dumpster diving every Friday and Caleb spent the night at Elijah's afterward. His parents continued to ignore him, except at dinner, when they took every moment they could to criticize his appearance and his choices. His brother continued to push him around with no consequences.

Nothing ever changed, and it felt like nothing ever would.

About a month had gone by and Elijah and Caleb were in Elijah's room, working on their project, when Elijah said, “Caleb, we've never gone on a date.”

Caleb looked up from the outline he was working on.

“Well, it's not really safe to be out here, and the town is so small, someone at school might see.” He added quickly, “Everyone knows about me, so whatever. But I don't want to out you if you're not ready.”

“We can go out on a date without being too public,” Elijah said. “I want to take you somewhere nice, Caleb. I don't have much money, but maybe we can go on a picnic or something. I'm a pretty good cook. I can figure out something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wasn't able to get into the culinary class, but I know what I'm doing.”

Caleb smiled and looked back down at his outline. His ears were hot and red, but in the best way. He'd never been on a real date before. “Okay,” he said. “I'd like that. Maybe on Saturday?”

“Okay. We'll go to the park behind the library.”

“Are you sure you want to be that close to the school?”

“It'll be fine."

 

That Saturday was blue and chilly and beautiful, sunny and bright and perfect for a light hoodie and a pair of jeans. Caleb sat on the curb in front of his apartment complex's parking lot, waiting for Elijah to pick him up. He knew better than to have _anyone_ come to his door, much less a boyfriend. Although, with his parents' insistence on misgendering him as a girl, maybe having a boyfriend would get them off his back. But he didn't want to risk it.

Caleb had only been waiting about five minutes when Elijah pulled up beside him in his mom's blue Impala. He rolled down the passenger's window as Caleb stood and called, “Hey, kid, want a bike?”

Caleb laughed and slid into the passenger's seat. “No, but I'll take some candy if you've got it.”

Elijah smiled and squeezed Caleb's knee, then put his hands back on the steering wheel and started on their way to the park.

It was a much shorter car ride than bus ride, and the trip that usually would have taken Caleb about a half hour only took ten minutes. Elijah parked at the far end of the park, back at in a more private corner away from the playground and baseball diamond where few people ever went.

“We can have some privacy back here,” he said as they got out of the car. He grabbed a wicker picnic basket from the backseat.

“A real picnic basket?” Caleb asked. He'd been expecting a large lunchbox or a paper bag.

“It was my mom's when she was in college. She can't get rid of anything. I thought we may as well get some use out of it.”

Caleb grinned. “It's adorable,” he said.

They made their way onto the grass and Elijah pulled an old bed sheet out of the basket, laying it out on the ground. “It's not much, but it'll keep the grass out of our clothes,” he said.

“It's perfect,” Caleb grinned. Elijah began to unpack.

There were mini-quiches and salad and sandwiches and all sorts of delicious things, “Made from scratch, except the bread,” Elijah said. Caleb took a bite out of one of the mini-quiches, with caramelized onions and mushrooms and thyme.

“Oh my god,” he said. He covered his mouth as he continued to chew. “Elijah, this is the best thing I've ever eaten in my life. You made this?”

Elijah grinned and rubbed at his bright pink nose. “Yeah,” he said softly.

“Have you thought about cooking professionally? Like, outside of the military?”

“I've thought about culinary school,” Elijah said. “But I don't have the money. I was thinking of using my GI bill for it whenever I'm done.”

Caleb's smile faded and he lowered his eyes. He'd been doing a good job about not thinking about the fact that Elijah was going to leave in a few months. Where would that leave him?

“Have you... have you thought about what you're going to do, there?” he asked.

“I'm thinking the Air Force,” Elijah said. “I'm debating between that and the Army.”

“Where would you go?”

“Wherever they sent me for basics, I guess,” he said.

“What about me?”

Elijah fell quiet, his eyes trained on Caleb's chin.

“Do you think you could do long distance for the nine or ten weeks I'd be there?”

“Ten weeks?”

Elijah flinched at the incredulity in his voice. “Yeah,” he whispered. Caleb licked his lips.

“I mean, that’s… two and a half months?” he asked. “I guess it’s not that bad. It would suck. But, I mean, we could still talk, and maybe visit, right?”

“Yeah,” Elijah said. He paused. “I'm willing to try if you are.”

Caleb's fingers curled into his palm. His short nails were sharp in the sensitive skin.

“Yeah,” he said. “I'm willing to try. What about after that? Would you come back?”

“I was thinking we could both go somewhere else. Together. You want to get out of here, too, right?”

Caleb nodded. “Yeah.”

“I could save up money while I'm in basics since I'd basically be living for free. By the time I'm done I'd have more than enough to move you to wherever I'd be stationed. If you wanted.”

Elijah had barely finished his sentence before Caleb said emphatically, “ _Yes_.”

Elijah finally lifted his gaze to Caleb's eyes. “Yeah?”

Caleb grinned. “Yeah.”

Elijah leaned over the small picnic spread to kiss Caleb's cheek.

 

Caleb stayed at Elijah’s for dinner, too, and finally met his dad and got to sit down with his family for a while. The meal was made up of work and school stories and jokes and delicious food, and it was so simple, and normal, and perfect. But like all perfect things, that Saturday had to end, and Caleb had to go back home.

His parents didn’t acknowledge his presence or the fact that he’d been gone all day, too busy watching a movie on TV to bother with him. He’d learned to be grateful for being ignored, because at least then it wasn’t criticism, it wasn’t insults, it wasn’t violence. He went back to his bedroom and quietly shut and locked the door behind him, plopping down on the bed and pulling out his phone. He paused, put it to the side, sat and pulled off the bandage around his chest. He looked down and poked at it gently. The bruising was getting worse.

He pulled up his laptop and went to the website where he’d bought his last binder. He pulled his reloadable credit card out of his wallet and checked the balance. $41. It was enough. He put in the order and Kirelle’s mailing address, then sent her a quick text with, _I’m having a new binder sent to your house. Keep an eye out for me?_

She texted back immediately.

_Will do!_

He started some music and grabbed his phone, dropping himself back on his bed. He rolled over onto his side and curled his knees up into his chest as he texted Elijah.

_I’m home safe. Parents are ignoring me. Small miracles._

_I’m sorry._

And then, about ten minutes later,

_Do you want to go to a movie or something next weekend?_

Caleb smiled.

_I’d love to._

 

Caleb adjusted the collar of his shirt for the fifteenth time, leaning over the bathroom sink to better see it in the mirror. He sighed and smoothed down his shirt. _I look fine_ , he told himself. _And Elijah obviously doesn’t care what I wear, anyway._ He rolled his sleeves halfway up his forearms, back down, changed his mind and rolled them back up again. The black fabric of his shirt made his dark brown skin look warmer than usual. He looked good. He should wear black more often than just for dumpster diving.

He peeked out of the bathroom to make sure he wouldn’t run into anyone on his way back to his room. The hallway was clear. He closed the bedroom door behind him and slid his closet door open.

He stacked a few thick, heavy books and jumped up to grab his Monopoly box from the top shelf of his closet. He pulled it down and opened it up.

His money was gone.

“ _What_?” he whispered. He lifted the playing board, shuffled through the cards and fake money, but it was nowhere in the box. He threw it to the side and jumped back on the books again, reaching up to feel around the shelf in case it had fallen out. It wasn't there, either.

Someone had taken it.

He stormed out of his room and slammed his brother's door open. “Manny! Where's my money?”

Manny looked up from his computer with a sneer. “What money?”

“The money you took out of my room! You know, the _hundreds of fucking dollars_ I’ve been saving. Where is it?”

“I didn't take anything from your stupid room,” Manny snorted.

“Where _is_ it?” Caleb's voice cracked.

“I don't know and I don't _care_!”

“What are you yelling about?” Their mother stormed into the bedroom doorway, shoving Caleb to the side.

“He thinks I took his stupid money,” Manny said. “But I didn't!”

“Of course he didn't.”

Caleb looked up at his mother, eyes wide.

“Then where --”

“Your father and I took it to pay for the play we're going to tonight. You cause so much trouble all the time, it's the least you could do for us.”

“What?” Caleb deflated. His shoulders slumped.

“See?” Manny shouted.

“Mom, I'd been saving that money for years!”

“Don't talk back to me! Go to your room right now.”

Caleb stormed back across the small hallway and slammed his door behind him. His hands shook with anger. His throat was tight and his eyes prickled with angry tears.

“I have to get out of this place,” he murmured to himself.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Kirelle's number. She answered after two rings.

“Hello!”

“Kirelle, I have to get out of here.” His voice broke with the sob building at the back of his throat. “I can't stay here anymore. Please tell me your parents have things figured out.”

“They're meeting with the lawyer this afternoon,” Kirelle said. Her voice was soft. “After that, they'll know what we need to do.”

“Please, can I come over in the meantime? I can't stay here. I'm going to lose it if I'm stuck with these people any longer.”

“Yeah,” Kirelle said. “Bring stuff to spend the night, just in case.”

“Thank you.”

They ended the phone call shortly after and Caleb packed up his spare backpack with his laptop, a few days worth of clothes, a toothbrush, and what still remained of his money, a little jar full of quarters and other change that he used for bus fare and the occasional library fee. He threw it over his shoulder and grabbed his school backpack, grabbing his keys and speeding out the front door and as far away as he could get.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter! I got all messed up because Thanksgiving was yesterday. But here's your chapter now! :D

Kirelle's house was beautiful. It was a small single-floor with three bedrooms, a kitchen, a bath, and a living room, but it was immaculately clean and beautifully decorated in browns and creams and blues.

“My parents are still with the lawyer,” she said when she opened the door. “Come inside.”

Caleb followed her in and kicked off his shoes by the doormat, following Kirelle into the living room. She muted the TV and sat down on the couch. Caleb plopped down beside her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You know how I was saving that money?” Caleb said. Kirelle's expression twisted into one of shock.

“They didn't,” she whispered.

“To pay for a fucking play,” he said. “Since I cause so much trouble it was the least I could do, Mom said.”

“Oh my god,” Kirelle whispered. “Caleb, I'm so sorry. Did they take all of it?”

“All of it. Every dollar. All that was left was the change jar on my desk.” He paused. “Shit, I have to call Elijah. We were supposed to go out tonight.”

Kirelle stood. “Okay. Take your time. I'm going to text my dad and see what's up so far. I'll be in the kitchen. Give you some privacy.”

“Thank you,” he said. She left the room and he pulled out his phone.

Elijah answered after just one ring.

“Hey,” he said. A pause. “Is everything okay?”

“What?” He hadn't even _said_ anything yet.

“I mean, usually you text me. I don't think you've ever called me before.”

“Oh,” Caleb whispered. “Yeah. I, um, I'm not going to be able to make it to the movies tonight.”

“Are you all right?” Elijah's voice was tight even as he tried to keep it level and calm.

“My parents took all of my money. The money I was saving to get out of here one day. It's all gone, to pay for some stupid play. Because I _owe_ it to them or something, because I exist in their presence.”

“Shit,” Elijah whispered. “Okay. Um. Well, don't worry about our date, if you can't make it out I understand. But are you safe? Are you going to be okay?”

“I'm at Kirelle's,” he said. “So, yeah. For now.”

“I know it's rude to invite myself, but is it okay with her if I come over?” He paused. “I mean, if you want me to?”

Caleb _did_ want him to. Kirelle was amazing, but he needed all the support he could get right now. “Let me ask her,” he said. He stood and made his way to the kitchen, where Kirelle was sitting at the small table, texting wildly.

“Hey, Kirelle?” he asked. She looked up at his timid voice. He was curled in on himself, shoulders hunched forward.

Her face softened, sympathetic, and she said gently, “Yeah?”

“Is… is it okay if Elijah comes over, too?”

“That should be fine,” she said. “Just try to keep it toned down while my parents are here. They won't care that you're with a guy, they just don't like public displays of affection.”

Caleb nodded and went back to his phone. “Yeah. You can come over.”

Caleb gave him the bus route information and the address, and shortly after, they hung up.

“So,” Kirelle said, “I've been in touch with my dad, and it's looking good. Since my parents are willing to take you in if you get emancipated, you'll have better luck, since you won't be homeless and jobless. We're going to write up a contract that basically says you can stay here with room and board in exchange for working around the house and running errands and stuff. It's more for formality than anything, so you look like you can take care of yourself and your own needs. My dad’s also going to see if he can get you a busboy job or something at the restaurant he manages.”

“Are you serious?” Caleb’s voice cracked and his hands shot up to cover his mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, your family is amazing. I’ll do whatever you guys need around the house and I have no problem working a job like that as long as someone can get me home.”

“Excellent,” Kirelle said. “My dad’s always there super late so as long as you don’t mind hanging around and waiting, he can bring you back home. So, you'll have to follow my mom and dad's rules. We have to share a room. And you have to stay in school or else get your GED, but it has to be one or the other. Is that all stuff you can do?”

“Easily,” Caleb said. Kirelle's parents were more than reasonable, so he couldn't imagine disagreeing with any of their rules, and he'd much rather share a bedroom with Kirelle than an apartment with his family. He'd probably get his GED so he could focus more on working and saving up money for his own place.

“And if the emancipation doesn’t work, they can apply to get guardianship over you,” she said. “That’ll be a lot more difficult, though, because you’d have to get your parents to agree to it.” She paused. “Do you have any pictures of when she cut your arm?”

“No,” Caleb said. He rolled up his left sleeve. “I have a scar, though.”

“Okay. If we can prove your parents are a danger to you it’ll be easier to get you out.”

Caleb swallowed hard. His voice wavered when he spoke. “I know we need to talk about this,” he said, “but I… I need… I can’t do this right now. Can we watch a movie or play a game or something?”

“How about cards?” Kirelle asked.

“Any game but War.”

“Speed?”

“Okay.”

 

They were on their sixth game when the doorbell rang.

“That’ll probably be Elijah,” Caleb said. He and Kirelle both put their cards face down on the kitchen table and stood. Caleb trailed behind her to the door.

It _was_ Elijah. His breathing was a little heavier than usual and his face a little pink.

“Are you okay?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I ran here from the bus stop.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He turned to Kirelle and said, “Hey. Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Kirelle said. She gently nudged Caleb forward, into Elijah’s warm arms. Caleb sank into him, his hands gripping tightly at the back of his boyfriend’s hoodie.

“We were just playing cards,” he mumbled. His voice was muffled by Elijah’s hoodie. It was so soft and warm and Caleb thought he could easily fall asleep there, still on his feet. Suddenly he was the most exhausted he’d ever been.

“Why don’t you come inside,” Kirelle finally said. “We’ll put on a movie or something.”

As Kirelle set the DVD player up, Caleb curled into Elijah, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s stomach and wrapping his arms around his back. His knees were tight against his stomach and with that and the bandage around his chest, it was difficult to breathe, but the position was safe, with Elijah’s hand on his head, stroking his hair and his neck. Kirelle jostled his feet when she sat down on his other side.

The movie started, but Caleb wasn’t watching and he didn’t recognize the dialogue, so he probably hadn’t seen it before. He didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to Elijah and Kirelle and never move again.

Caleb’s parents didn’t call him that night, even though he didn’t go home for dinner. Not even a text with so much as a “Where are you?”

And it _hurt_. It hurt to know his own parents didn’t care where he was or what he was doing, if he was dead in a ditch somewhere or if he’d thrown himself off a bridge.

Both he and Elijah stayed for dinner that night. As it got later and the buses ran less frequently, Elijah kept his eyes on the kitchen clock, but never made a move to leave. Eventually, Kirelle pulled her parents out of the room for a few minutes, leaving Elijah and Caleb alone with her little brother, Sam.

“Are you guys going to get married?” he asked

Caleb nearly spit out his drink and Elijah coughed awkwardly.

“What kind of question is that?” Caleb asked.

“I was just wondering. You’re boyfriends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So if boyfriends and girlfriends get married, that means boyfriends and boyfriends do, too, right?”

An awkward silence.

“Are you spending the night, Caleb?”

“I am,” Caleb smiled.

Sam clapped his hands in excitement. “That means I get to stay up late with you and watch movies!”

“Sure, kiddo. As long as your parents say it’s okay.”

Kirelle re-entered the kitchen, without her parents, this time, and began to collect the dishes left on the table from dinner. “Sammy, will you grab all the silverware for me?”

Sam saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

Kirelle laughed. As she gathered the plates, she turned to Elijah and said, “As long as it’s okay with your parents, you can stay the night, too.”

“Your parents let boys stay the night?”

“Sure. Caleb stays over all the time. They trust me. They know I’m not stupid.”

Caleb, Elijah, and Kirelle stayed up late in the living room, making a blanket fort to sleep in, telling stories, and watching movies. Eventually they started drifting off one by one. Sam went first. Kirelle woke him up and helped him stumble back into his bedroom. She followed into sleep not long after, curled up in the mountain of pillows strewn across the floor. Elijah and Caleb were up for a while longer, sharing hushed conversation about their future: where Caleb was going to end up, when Elijah was leaving, when Caleb was going to be able to follow.

“As it is, I could end up anywhere in the States,” Elijah said. “I can’t imagine we’d end up anywhere worse than here.”

“It’s the people that make a place,” Caleb said. “As long as I’m with you and away from my family, I’ll be okay. I’ll miss my friends. But they understand how important it is for me to leave. Both of them are probably going to move away for college, anyway.”

“Are you going to want to finish school?” Elijah said.

Caleb shook his head. “As soon as I can, I’m dropping out and getting my GED, then I’m going to work for a while to help you save up. Kirelle’s dad is getting me a busboy job at his restaurant. It’s not much, but it’s work.”

Elijah took Caleb’s hand and gently kissed his palm, burying his nose in the warm skin. “I’m probably going to leave in the summer, shortly after I graduate. I’ve decided on the Air Force. There’s a base here, but… hopefully they’ll send me off somewhere else. Even if they don’t, maybe they’ll move me afterward. I’m going to go to a recruitment office in the next few weeks and see when I should enlist based on when I can leave. I’m already eighteen. All that’s left is to finish school.”

Caleb swallowed. His throat was tight and sharp. He’d been fine without Elijah for years, just him and Kirelle and Chailyn, but now that Elijah had become such an important part of his life, he couldn’t imagine being without him, even for the few months he’d be in basics.

That was a lie. He could. He just didn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Caleb’s voice was lower than the dim light of the living room. The TV was still on, playing quietly, but their backs were turned to it as they curled into each other. Caleb took a moment to watch his boyfriend, his soft eyes, his sharp nose, his strong chin and neck. His hair was haloed in the light from the TV, shiny and bright.

“I don’t want to leave you alone here with your family,” Elijah whispered.

“You won’t be,” Caleb said. “I’ll be out and with Kirelle by then. Whether it’s by emancipation or guardianship change, hopefully by the end of the school year, I’ll be gone. But it can take up to three months or so. I just have to hang on in the meantime.”

“Yeah,” Elijah whispered. He leaned closer, pressing his temple against Caleb’s, his soft, slightly frizzy hair brushing against the smaller boy’s cheek. Caleb smiled and closed his eyes, savoring the closeness, the gentleness of the touch.

 _I love you_ , he thought, but he was too afraid to say it out loud.

 

Elijah had to be home early the next morning, but Caleb stayed late into the day, until just before dinner.

“We’d better get you back,” Kirelle said. It was almost 6:00. “I don’t want you in any more trouble than you’ll already be in.”

“They didn’t even notice I was missing. If they did, they didn’t care.” But Caleb knew she was right. If he was gone for too long, they might call the police, if only to seem like they weren’t neglecting him.

Kirelle lowered her eyes and bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She looked back up again. “Do you want me to ask my mom if she can give you a ride?”

Caleb shook his head. “I can walk. You guys have done so much for me already. Thank you, Kirelle.” He pulled her into a tight hug. She gently patted his back.

“Always,” she murmured.

The sun was out, bright and bold, heating up the asphalt and concrete. Caleb pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows, letting the cool breeze hit his arms. If he’d been going anywhere else, the walk would have been pleasant. But he was going home. He may as well have been marching his way down to Hell.

He walked into an empty living room. Carefully, quietly, he closed and locked the door behind him. The lock was like a gunshot in a cavern, loud and booming in the silence of the apartment. Caleb flinched.

_Please don’t be home. Please let them have gone out for dinner._

He tiptoed his way through the living room, peering down the hallway. The door to his parents’ bedroom was halfway open. If they were home, they were up, and they were probably listening.

Caleb turned the corner, a little too quickly, and bashed his knee against the edge of the wall.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He shut his mouth and bit his lip.

“Arianna!”

The blood drained from his face and straight into his stomach, but he knew better than to not answer.

“Yeah?” It was soft and timid.

The bedroom door slammed open. His stomach turned and he stumbled back as his mother stormed out of the bedroom.

“Where were you last night?” she screamed.

“I was --”

“What are you playing at, staying out all night and all day?”

“You didn’t even notice I was gone last time!”

“What?”

“A couple weeks ago, I left and didn’t come back until just before dinner the next day, and do you know what you said? You just told me to do the dishes. If you didn’t notice I was gone, why should I have to tell you when I leave? If --”

A heavy, sharp slap on his cheek cut him off. His head whirled and he crouched down into himself, holding his hand tight to the injured skin. Shit, he was probably going to bruise.

“Do _not_ talk back to me, young lady!”

Something deep inside Caleb’s chest twisted and stretched its arms. He took a deep breath, stood up tall, and, despite the tears starting to well in his eyes, he snapped, “I am _not_ a young fucking lady.”

“What?”

“You heard me!” His fists were clenched so tight his arms shook and his jaw ached with the pressure of his teeth grinding together. “You know exactly what I am!”

“I know you’re disgusting!” his mother spat.

“Yeah, and lazy and stupid and ugly and all that other bullshit you’re constantly spitting at me!” Inside, Caleb was trembling like a leaf about to break off from its branch, but his voice didn’t waver. His fists clenched tighter and his face hardened. “If you hate me so much, why am I here? Why don’t you just let me go?”

“Get out!” his mother screamed. “Just get out of my house! You’re disgusting!”

“I’m leaving!” Caleb shouted back. “I’m fucking leaving, okay, and you’ll never have to worry about seeing me again!”

“Good! I’m tired of looking at you every night. You make me sick!”

“Good!” The half scream, half sob ripped at Caleb’s throat. “That means I must be doing something right!”

“You’ll _never_ do _anything_ right!”

“Fuck you!”

“Get out!”

Caleb slammed the door behind him so hard, the walls shook.

All he had was his phone, his wallet, and a locker full of textbooks and homework and a bag with a laptop and a few changes of clothes at Kirelle’s house. Everything else he owned was still inside the apartment. It was gone. He’d never see it again. His bed was gone. His books were gone. His clothes were gone. Everything was gone.

But _he_ was gone, and that was what was important. Everything else could be replaced.

He was free.

What should have been traumatizing and painful was instead the best thing that had ever happened to him. His parents had kicked him out of their own will. He didn’t have to go back. He could stay with Kirelle even though the emancipation papers hadn’t even been filed yet.

When he arrived at Kirelle’s house, tears sparkled in his eyes. Kirelle answered the door and immediately asked, “Oh my god, what happened?”

“I’m out,” Caleb said. It came out as a relieved half-sob. “I’m out.”

“What do you mean?”

“They kicked me out. I’m free. I never have to go back.”

Kirelle’s eyes widened and a relieved smile crossed her face. She grabbed Caleb in the tightest hug he’d ever had, squeezing his arms against his sides.

“Oh my god, Caleb, that’s awesome.” She paused. “Right?”

“Right.” He blinked and the tears welled over. He laughed and wiped his wet, streaked face. “It’s the best thing to ever happen to me,” he sniffled. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m so happy about this. I really am.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Kirelle said. “I’m not surprised you’re overwhelmed.”

He laughed wetly and shook his head.

“Come inside,” she said. “We’ll tell Mom, and I’ll text my dad at work and let him know what happened. And after that, you can call Elijah. I’m sure he’ll want to know what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Caleb whispered. Kirelle shuffled him inside as she called out for her mom.

Kirelle’s mom called back, “I’ll be right down!”

“Come into the kitchen with me,” Kirelle said. She wrapped her arm around Caleb’s shoulders and guided him into a chair. “Sit,” she said. He did.

He leaned down onto the table, the full weight of his upper body heavy on his arms. He buried his face in his hands and breathed in, shaky and deep. His hands still smelled like the green apple soap in Kirelle’s bathroom. When a soft touch came on his shoulder, he looked up.

“Brought you some water,” Kirelle said, setting down the glass in front of him. “It’ll help you feel better. At least physically. You walked a long way.”

“Thank you.” Caleb took a long, deep drink of the cold water, then stuck his fingers in the glass and wiped them over his forehead.

“I can get you a washcloth,” Kirelle said. Caleb opened his heavy eyes. She was smiling. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Thank you.” His voice was soft and so, so tired. He closed his eyes again. The rush of the tap, the faucet squeaking as Kirelle turned it off. A cold, wet washcloth pressed against the back of his hand. He took it and buried his face in it, trying to breathe.

What were his emotions _doing_? He was free, now. He was away from the abuse and the neglect and the anger, for good, this time, not just for an overnight stay at a friend’s. He had no other family in the state to worry about where he’d disappeared to, so his parents wouldn’t have to call the police to keep up appearances. So why did he feel so empty? Why did he feel so _dead_?

Maybe he’d been hoping that things would get better, even though they’d been bad for as long as he could remember. Maybe he’d subconsciously been wishing for a greeting card family that had game nights and Sunday brunches and siblings that watched out for each other.

 _It was never going to happen_ , he thought. He needed to stop that train of thought right there.

The soft squeak of slipper soles on the tile. Caleb finally looked up, but kept his nose and mouth covered by the cloth. Kirelle’s mom had just entered the room. She looked just like her daughter, short and thin and angular, but with a few more decades of age on her face.

“Caleb?” Her eyes were wide with surprise. “What are you doing back here again?”

His eyes darted over her face, then his brows drew down and he lowered his gaze.

Kirelle finally answered for him. “His parents kicked him out.”

“I’m sorry.” Caleb’s voice hitched on the edge of a sob. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hayes.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Chandra?” she said with a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry.” This time, the sob broke, heavy and wet, and he buried his face back in the cloth.

“Oh, oh,” Chandra whispered. She sat down in the chair beside Caleb’s and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Don’t apologize, Caleb. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed again. “I’m sorry.” Despite what she said, the apologies kept rushing out of his mouth.

“Shh, shh.” She gently eased him into a hug and he buried his face in her neck. “It’s okay. It’s okay now.”

Caleb nodded against her skin, but didn’t move away. For a long, long while, he sat there, curled up against Kirelle’s mother and sobbing, thick and heavy and harsh.

“It’s okay, now,” she repeated. “Do you still want to go through with the emancipation papers?”

“I…” Caleb interrupted himself with a sniffle and a hiccup. “I don’t…”

“It’s okay. We’ll talk about it later.” She started to pull away, but Caleb’s hands tightened in the back of her shirt. She wrapped her arms back around him. “Caleb, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Caleb was vaguely aware that Kirelle was taking his cell phone from where it sat beside him on the table, but he didn’t care. A few minutes later, she put it back, and by that time, he was still a mess, but a bit more coherent of a mess, and he finally let go of Chandra and sat back up. He wiped at his face with the washcloth again. It was so cold it almost hurt.

“What were you doing with my phone?” Caleb hiccupped.

“I was inviting Elijah over. His mom’s driving him. They’ll be here soon.” She looked over at her mom. “His mom wants to talk to you about the situation, too.”

When the doorbell rang fifteen minutes later, Kirelle jumped up from the kitchen table and ran to the door. Caleb was too tired to move. He’d probably have to relocate to the living room so Elijah and Kirelle’s moms could talk, but that could come later. For now, he had at least a few minutes of sitting.

Crying shouldn’t be so exhausting.

Suddenly, Elijah was in the chair next to him, his hands scrambling over Caleb’s shoulders and arms and back, looking for any injury. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Caleb nodded. “I’m out,” he whispered. His voice cracked. His laugh was a little hysterical. “I’m out. They kicked me out. I never have to go back again.”

He finally looked up at Elijah’s face, full of so many things: relief, unsureness, worry. Caleb finally smiled, even though it was small and weak. Elijah smiled back.

“This is the best thing that could have happened,” Caleb said. He looked back down at the table. Elijah wrapped his arm around him and pressed his nose to the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Why am I so upset about it?”

“Because you were hoping it would get better,” Elijah whispered. “Even if you didn’t realize it. I know. I understand.”

“Yeah,” Caleb whispered. He buried his face in Elijah’s shirt. It smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. “You smell delicious,” he said.

Elijah chuckled. “We were baking when Kirelle texted me.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t ever be sorry for something like this, okay?”

Caleb nodded weakly. “Okay.”

“I’m going to need you kids to move either into the living room or Kirelle’s room.” Caleb looked up. Chandra and Grace were standing near each other by the sink. “We need to talk about some things.”

Kirelle stood. The feet of her chair scraping across the tile was like nails on a chalkboard in the quiet room.

“Let’s go into the living room,” she said. “I’ll set up a game or a movie or something.” Elijah stood. Caleb lingered, until Elijah’s big hand gently shook his shoulder.

“Come on,” he whispered.

Caleb nodded. “Yeah.”

 

They ended up in a small triangle on the floor, so close their knees bumped, playing through various card games. Caleb was grateful for the closeness, even something this casual.

 _I’m not alone anymore,_ he thought. _Maybe I never really have been._

The games started quietly, the three friends only speaking the basest requirement. But as the games moved on and became more competitive, first, Kirelle started laughing and joking, then Elijah followed, and eventually, Caleb was laughing, too, as he threw down cards in games of Crazy Eights and Old Maid and Go Fish.

“Do you want me to call Chailyn?” Kirelle asked. She threw down an eight of spades. “Hearts,” she said.

“I don’t know,” Caleb said. He dropped a four and drew a card. Another club. He sighed and looked up from his cards. “I mean, she needs to know. But I don’t know if I can handle another emotional upheaval today. Two is already two too many. I’m not good at this stuff.”

Elijah nudged his knee against Caleb’s. “Not many people are,” he said. Caleb’s gaze slid to his boyfriend. He was smiling gently.

“I guess,” Caleb said. He looked down at his cards again as Elijah made his play. He swallowed and looked up at Kirelle again. “Do you think your mom will let Elijah stay again?”

“I don’t know,” Kirelle said. “There’s school tomorrow.”

“I don’t think my mom will let me,” Elijah said.

“I’ve stayed at your place on school nights before,” Caleb said.

“That was different, though. We were getting you out of your house. We don’t need to do that anymore.”

Caleb looked back down at his cards and said, “Yeah, you’re right. Do you think we can ask, anyway?”

“Yeah,” Kirelle said. “We can ask. The worst they can say is wait until Friday.”

“Okay,” Elijah said. “And if nothing else, you’re coming back over tomorrow anyway.”

“Yeah,” Caleb said. “How’s your part of the project coming?”

“I’m just about done. I just need to edit down the video clips I’m going to use. But I have them all collected, and all my research is done and my half of the paper is written. You?”

“I’m getting there. I have one more point to research and then I have to narrow down which songs to use out of a list I made. I haven’t written anything yet. I haven’t been able to get much done recently because…” He trailed off and lowered his eyes. “Sorry. I guess I’m not pulling my weight after all.”

Elijah’s hand was heavy and reassuring and warm on Caleb’s knee. He jostled it and said, “We still have a week. I have faith in you. And I have no problem helping you out if you need it. Our circumstances were pretty messed up. I understand.”

“Thanks, Elijah,” Caleb whispered. His eyes started to well again, but this time, in pure relief. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at http://indecentpause.tumblr.com/ for short stories, flash fiction, playlists, moodboards, and more!


	11. Chapter 11

Caleb settled into Kirelle’s family with no trouble. Sam invited him in as a big brother with open arms, and her parents were open about him calling them whatever he was comfortable with, as long as it was respectful. Chandra and David, Mrs. and Mr. Hayes, and even Mom and Dad was offered on the table, but he wasn’t ready for that. Nobody blamed him or was surprised.

His life fell into routine quickly, but he was so grateful for a safe routine, so grateful for some boredom, so grateful that there was no more standing on his toes, teetering on the edge of chaos depending on the whims of the adults he went home to. Even though, physically, he was obviously taken in from somewhere else, in every other way, Kirelle’s family had become his family. A real family, like his biological one never was.

Winter ended. Spring came and went. Then it was summer, and it was only a few weeks until school was let out.

Only a few weeks until Elijah left.

He had everything set up. He was going to Scott AFB in Illinois exactly a week after school ended.

Caleb spent most of his time at Elijah’s house, only ever with Kirelle’s family to eat and sleep. But he knew by the way they looked at him, worried and sad, that they understood. They knew he’d be back to them after Elijah was gone.

They spent their afternoons curled up in Elijah’s bed, hands entwined as they whispered promises for the future to each other. Their evenings were long and quiet, lasting late into the night, sharing kisses and touches and exploring each others’ bodies.

The week between school’s end and Elijah’s leaving, Caleb nearly lived at Elijah’s house, even doing his laundry there and helping with things like cooking dinner and washing up. And that week stretched into a perfect eternity that was over in only moments.

Elijah’s dad had to be at work the day he left, so they spent the night before celebrating Elijah’s success: his graduation, his acceptance into the Air Force, his attempt to go out into the world and make something of himself. Caleb knew he would be following soon, but it didn’t make the temporary separation any less painful.

“It’ll be like ripping off a bandage,” Elijah had said. “It’ll hurt, but only for a short while, and then everything will be fine again.”

 

The bus station was a few towns over, in Phoenix proper, so Elijah’s mom had to drive them. The ride was quiet, the only sound the soft music playing on the radio. Nobody knew what to say.

All three of them got out of the car when they arrived, and Elijah’s mom pulled him into a tight hug. He was so much taller than her. Her head rested flat against his chest. He chuckled and wrapped his arms back around her.

“I’m so proud of you, Elijah,” she said. When she pulled back, her eyes were wet, but she was smiling. “I’m going to miss you so much. But I’m so proud of you.”

Caleb hung back while they said their goodbyes, watching and listening but saying nothing. Grace checked her watch. She smiled sadly and looked back up at Elijah.

“I’ll let you two have the last five minutes alone.” She turned to Caleb. “I’ll be parked right here, okay?”

Caleb and Elijah both nodded.

“I love you, Elijah,” his mom repeated.

“I love you, too. I’ll call you when I get there.”

She smiled and got back into the car.

Elijah took Caleb’s hand, loosely tangling their fingers together as they walked toward the outside bus terminal. He already had his ticket. He was ready to go.

But Caleb wasn’t ready for him to leave.

They paused and Elijah turned toward Caleb, resting his hands on his boyfriend’s hips.

“It's only two and a half months,” Elijah said. His hands were tight, head ducked to rest against Caleb's forehead. “Just two and a half months and we can be together again. Somewhere else. Somewhere better.”

“Yeah,” Caleb whispered.

“I'll get you out of here,” Elijah said. “I _promise_.”

“I'm with Kirelle's family now, so I'll be okay in the meantime. At least, I'll be better than I was.”

“I'll call you every day I can.”

“I love you,” Caleb whispered. It was his first time saying it to anyone, platonic or romantic or otherwise, but he wanted Elijah to hear it face to face, not over the phone, not over a chatroom.

“I love you,” Elijah whispered back. “I love you.” He pulled Caleb into a kiss, right in the middle of the bus terminal, completely unashamed. “Less than three months,” he said. “It'll be over in no time.”

“Yeah.” Caleb's voice caught and he cleared his throat.

The last call for the bus chimed over the loudspeaker and Elijah gently pulled away. He pulled back in for one more kiss.

“We've got this,” he said.

“Hell yeah, we do,” Caleb said.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Elijah finally let go of Caleb's hips and took one step backward, two, three. Finally, with one last, whispered, “I love you, Caleb,” he turned around and made his way to the bus that would take him to Illinois. States and states away.

“I love you,” Caleb whispered, even though Elijah couldn't hear him. His eyes watered and he covered his mouth, and he murmured to himself, “Less than three months. Less than three months.”

Now that he was away from his family, now that he was finally a senior, with phone calls and emails and Kirelle and Chailyn, it would be hard, but for the first time in his life, Caleb knew he could make it.

Even if it took time, he knew that everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! If you've been keeping up with my work in real time, you'll know usually one story starts right after another ends, but not this time. No worries! I'm working on my next project and hope to have the rough draft ready for beta-ing in February.
> 
> In the meantime, please visit me on tumblr at indecentpause.tumblr.com for short stories, updates and excerpts from my current WIP, and various writing related posts (other people's writing, memes, etc).
> 
> Also, another note: I didn't realize this chapter was so short! I'm so sorry! I should have combined it with the last one. -.- Oh well, I guess!


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